Forgotten Lives
by CarolynneRuth
Summary: Merlin had given up on Albion ever happening. But then surprising events began to take place and familiar faces returned, even if they didn't have any memories of Camelot or who they once were but one could only live in hope. A reincarnation fic, except for Merlin because well Merlin had always been around, and far longer than he cared to admit. No slash. Friendship. Some romance.
1. Chapter 1

_**PROLOGUE**_

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_._

_September 1990_

Times were changing. As they always do. Merlin had seen many great changes in his time spent on this earth. So many that he paid little attention these days. He was an old man, set in his ways. When he passed the Lake of Avalon, no longer known by that name, he briefly reflected on a time that was lost long ago. Lost in myth and legend along with his dearest friend Arthur, _the once and future king of Albion._

Those words no longer held any meaning despite his longing.

Too many centuries had passed.

Merlin stopped in his tracks, not that he glanced back but still the memories were there; they always were.

Arthur, he inwardly sighed. Then giving a resigned shake of his head, he willed his feet to move.

So many years and far too many tears had passed. He'd long ago given up in his belief in Albion. With everything he'd seen, brutal wars, the loss of so many lives, and if there was a time when he believed Albion would or should return was during World War II. That was the time when the future of England seemed at its gravest. But it hadn't happened. And nothing since then led Merlin to believe it ever would.

Magic was lost to the world, only making its return in fictional narratives. Film captured an essence of what once had been. People watched it as a form of escapism. Merlin watched, often marvelling at the slowly changing values towards magic. He'd seen the days when witches were burnt at the stake, not even possessing any magic. Of those that did, they faded into the mists of the night. The world was an emptier place as a result. Still people were searching, longing and hoping, even if they really didn't know what it was they searched for; what it was that had been lost.

Only Merlin knew. He'd buried the great dragon and stood alongside Guinevere as she returned magic to Camelot, basked in the last golden age of old religion meeting the new.

He'd out lived and buried all who was dear and precious to him. He'd aged himself alongside Gwen. It seemed to comfort her. He stayed with her son, Arthur's son, the son he never lived to see. Arthur's son who died so heroically in battle as his father had once done. Once Arthur's son died, the old world seemed to die with it, fear and doubt crept back. Dictatorship ruled, Kingdom's fell but still life went on. And Merlin remained the old eccentric man. When Arthur's son died the grief was too much, his burden too heavy to bear. Maybe it was in defiance that he chose to remain an old man. Whatever it was Merlin knew deep in his heart that the young eager faced Merlin he'd once been no longer had a place in this world, and that meant remaining old, fading into the shadows, becoming invisible.

_The world has become so large Arthur, not even you would recognise it now. _The knights of the round table a distant memory, along with nobility and great kings. Battles were not fought with swords, but weapons of mass destruction. Kings were merely puppets to the ruling government. Merlin couldn't imagine Arthur ever fitting in with this new world anymore than he did.

Sighing, Merlin tugged his jacket tightly around himself. Another truck flew past, hitting a puddle and splashing cold dirty water all over him. He muttered to himself and glanced up at the offending truck. What he saw in big golden letters made him stiffen - _Pendragon Industries_.

Merlin blinked. What? He stared in disbelief as the truck receded in to the distance. There was no mistaking the golden dragon logo.

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**A/N: I have this story roughly planned out in my mind and I'm already working on Chapter one. If you would like me to continue with it please leave a review in the way of inspiration.**

**I know stories about reincarnation have been done a LOT but this story is a little bit different and favourite characters do return in surprising ways. It's not my intention to rain on anyone's parade but I have read some really good reincarnation fanfics lately which have inspired me with this story.**

**Thanks for reading.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thanks for the all of the reviews. They were very encouraging and what prompted me to get this chapter finished tonight and uploaded just one day later! Please ignore any grammar errors but if I didn't upload this chapter tonight then it would be a couple days before it would happen. ****I had so many interruptions and it's taken me forever to edit! That being said ...**

**Enjoy.**

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_**CHAPTER ONE. The Young Pendragon**_

_March 2009_

Arthur stifled a yawn and tried to concentrate. He could already feel his father's eyes land on him, before narrowing and Arthur forced an interested look upon his face, pushing his glasses further up his nose. Seeming satisfied his father continued with his address to the board. But as usual Arthur drowned his father's voice out and started doodling on the back of the so called agenda page. He hadn't even read the agenda yet but given that it was three pages in length that meant he was stuck here for at least a good two hours when he could be at the pub with his mates, downing many pints of beer. What any normal person his age did on a Friday night but not him, no his life was anything but normal. His life felt more like a prison, too many expectations to be the all powerful tycoon that was his father. He didn't have a social life. He doubted he would ever have a life.

But this wasn't him, sitting in boring old board meetings, discussing the future of the Pendragon Industries, their aims and achievements, how they controlled the monopoly within the country and blah, blah, blah.

_Power Arthur _his father often preached _that is where the future lies, in the power of profit, wealth is power and what keeps you in the lifestyle you're accustomed to. Don't ever forget that son. You would be nothing without this business. One day it will be your job to take over from me. _

The drawing on the page began to take shape and a small smile crossed Arthur's mouth. It was nothing more than a fire burning under a canopy of forest trees.

_See that Porsche you drive Arthur? Who do you think pays for that?_

_You of course father._

The drawing began to take shape. A dragon floated above the flames.

_Who pays for your fine expensive clothes Arthur?_

_You do father._

A hand emerged from the shadows, the long skinny fingers, roughened by servant work. It was the hand that summoned the dragon from the fire.

_Who pays for you to study at the finest university in this country?_

Arthur continued to doodle and the hand became an arm.

_You ... father._

A face emerged from the shadows, not much more than a boy.

_That's right Arthur I pay for everything and without me you'd have nothing._

The boy's facial features took shape, ears that stuck out from his thin pointed face and eyes, too large, eyes full of sadness and shame. Arthur stopped and stared down at the image he'd just drawn. A feeling he couldn't even begin to fathom or describe assailing him. For a moment he's lost in another time and place _it was me,_ _I'm a sorcerer._ Arthur's hand froze.

"It is my son's 21st birthday next week," Uther announced.

Arthur was brought back to present day with a jolt.

"We are having a special celebration and you are of course all invited."

Uther looked pointedly at his son and Arthur forced a smile to his lips.

"Once Arthur finishes his degree he will become a major player in the running of this company."

The smile remained plastered to his face. Did it matter what he wanted?

"I couldn't be more pleased."

His father was full of shit and once the meeting was over and the board member s had left, leaving just him and his father alone Arthur waited for the usual lecture.

His father crossed the floor and snatched the agenda from his hands. Arthur watched as he turned it over, noticing the drawing on the back. A displeased frown crossed his father's forehead.

"What is this?" he demanded.

"I dunno, just some doodling," Arthur returned with a shrug.

"Are you not getting a bit old for this?" his father snapped.

"I was bored."

"Then you won't mind if I tear it up."

And before Arthur could protest his father began ripping the sheet in half, then quarters, eights, till only tiny pieces of papers flittered across the board room table. Arthur sat there in muted silence, gazing down at what was left of his drawing and already mourning the too soon destruction of it.

"When are you going to start taking this seriously Arthur," his father raged "you embarrass me!"

"Give it a break father, it's a Friday night. I'm only here under duress."

His father's hand slammed down on the table.

"I was working two jobs at your age to get this company started and you ..." his voice broke off there as he ran a hand through his hair in frustration "you just take it all for granted."

"I don't, it's just I've been studying hard all year, plus working for you and I need a break."

Wrong thing to say, his father didn't believe in holidays.

"A break," Uther snorted.

Arthur sighed, removed his reading glasses and rubbed his eyes.

"You should try it sometime father."

Uther's face darkened and Arthur waited for the explosion. His father had a short fuse.

"You want to know why this business is so successful Arthur?"

No, not really. He'd already heard it more times than he cared to remember.

"It's because I put everything into it, blood, sweat and tears."

And at the expense of spending any time with me or Morgana, Arthur felt like adding but keeping his mouth shut. Just because his father was so ambitious it didn't mean he had to be.

"That's why I can stand here proudly and say that the Pendragon Industries is the most powerful business this country has yet to see, we have ownership and control over every other industry out there."

Arthur frowned up at his father.

"You sound like this business is an empire."

"That's how I see it and one day Arthur you will rule it."

He wasn't his father. He doubted he would ever rule or even if he wanted to. And as much as he resented the control his father had over his life he also didn't want to disappoint him. He hated it too, this want for any hint of praise his father would sometimes throw his way. He should be his own man, stand up to the old man and tell him what he wanted and not what he thought best for him.

His felt his father's hand rest on his shoulder.

"You're young and you have a lot to learn," he spoke in a kinder tone "I know one day you will do me proud Arthur."

Arthur shut his eyes, warming to the words of praise, as he always did and at the same time hating himself for it.

Uther gave his shoulder a light squeeze before moving away. "Go home and get some rest, you'll need to be here tomorrow at 8.00am sharp."

Arthur's eyes shot open. What! But tomorrow was Saturday.

"I was going to go horse riding," he began to protest.

His father just held up a hand as he made his way to the door.

"I need you here. Some important business transactions are taking place."

Arthur glared at his father's retreating back before slumping back in his chair, raking both hands through his hair.

He groaned out loud. He'd gone too long without any physical exertion and it was killing him. He hated being idle. His love of sport had had to take a back seat once he started at University and working for his father. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd kicked a soccer ball. And when was the last time he hiked through the national forest in Hampshire? He missed those weekends, camping out, staring up at the stars, wishing his life were different and dreaming of all the possibilities it could become. Sketching by the firelight without any thought and letting his hand do what it wanted. The drawings often puzzling him, who was the gangly young man with the bright eyes and wide smile and why the strong sense of belonging whenever he drew him? As if there once was a time when his life had had meaning and purpose?

Arthur snorted to himself and stood up, looking down at the pieces of paper his father had just torn to shreds a moment ago.

His father hated his sketches _art is for girls Arthur. _ And he'd learnt to keep it from him. It was just something that he did in his own time, when he felt like it, often when he felt alone and restless without even knowing why.

Arthur reached out a hand and picked up just the one piece of paper. Those eyes, full of shame and sadness _I have magic. _As if it was a crime.

Arthur took in a deep breath and shook his head to clear it. Gathering the pieces of paper in his hand he dumped them in the bin before exiting the board room.

* * *

Morgana was obviously having another one of her pool parties. Voices and much laughter wafted through the doors that led out to the heated enclosed patio. Arthur placed his briefcase on the kitchen bench. Least some one in this family was allowed to have fun. Morgana could do as she pleased. Opening the door to the fridge he tugged at his tie, pulling it free and reached for a can of beer.

"Where have you been Arthur?"

He turned around to see Morgana, wearing some ultra mini dress with a low plunging neck line that left little to the imagination.

"Where do you think," he muttered, throwing his tie onto the bench and flipping the tab off the can.

Morgana pouted her lips. "Daddy working you too hard again?"

Arthur gritted his teeth.

"You wouldn't know what work was Morgana," he retorted.

Her face hardened, and a flicker of annoyance flashed in her eyes. "That's because father is a sexist pig who believes only a man can succeed in business."

Arthur shook his head. "You shouldn't talk about him like that."

"Obviously you hold his same sexist attitude," she sneered.

He took a swig of beer, ignoring her. And to think she used to be sweet once.

"You really think I want to spend Friday nights in a board meeting? I'd gladly trade places with you."

Her face softened and she wove an arm through his.

"Why don't you come and join us," she suggested, smiling up at him "let your hair down for a change and have some fun."

He shook his head. "I can't, I have to be at work in the morning."

He felt Morgana's arm stiffen. "Just tell him you can't do it."

Arthur let out a bitter laugh. "Yeah right, father doesn't take no for an answer."

Morgana pulled her arm free and he noticed the flash of anger in her eyes.

"Are you ever going to stand up to him?" she snapped "he treats us as if we were commodities. He doesn't give a shit about us."

Arthur sighed and took a swig of his beer. He really didn't want to hear this.

"That's not entirely true."

Morgana was glowering at him now.

"Oh Arthur you are so pathetic," she sneered before turning on her heel and walking away.

Her words stung. He clenched his jaw tightly. Swift sudden anger hitting him square in the pit of his gut. Putting the can on the bench he stormed down to the basement. He yanked his overly expensive suit jacket off, along with the too fancy shirt and trousers before putting on his workout clothes. There was only one thing to do when he felt this way, run. Setting the treadmill to maximum speed Arthur determined to put his body through its paces.

Since when did Morgana become such a bitch? What happened to the happy go lucky girl she used to be?

'_What excuse did you give father?' she asked as they pitched the tent, one long plait falling over her shoulder._

'_I told him I was attending a science fair and would spend the night at Ewan's house.'_

_She giggled. 'A science fair, that's a good one, no doubt it'll please father.'_

_He smirked. 'What about you?'_

_Morgana tilted her head to the side, a thoughtful expression crossing her face._

'_I'm supposed to be at a grooming and deportment class, where I'm to be taught how to become a young lady, fit to grace the circles of the elite class.'_

_He raised an eyebrow. 'But that is what you're supposed to be doing tonight.'_

_She grinned. 'I know which is why I'm wagging it so I can be here with you instead.'_

'_You could be missing out,' he teased._

'_I know where I'd rather be.'_

_Arthur gave a low chuckle. 'Yeah and I can't see you giving up your tomboy ways anytime soon and becoming a young lady.'_

_Morgana screwed up her nose. 'I couldn't think of anything worse.'_

_Arthur lent back on his heels. 'The tent is pitched, I'll start a fire.'_

'_I'll get us something to eat.'_

_Arthur collected firewood. Morgana rummaged through the backpack. _

_He soon had a small fire going and Morgana handed him a sandwich._

'_I made them which means you better eat it Arthur without pulling a face, otherwise I'll punch you.'_

_He gingerly took the sandwich from her. Morgana was always putting strange things in her sandwiches. He could only wince at what might be in it. _

_She exited the tent with a bottle in one hand and a six pack of coke._

'_What is that?' he asked, eyeing the bottle_

'_I stole it from the liquor cabinet, it's a bottle Scotch.'_

_He looked at her horrified._

'_Lighten up Arthur,' she laughed sitting down next to him on the log._

'_B-But you're only 15,' he spluttered._

'_And you and I are going to get pissed and don't go giving me some lecture about not drinking I know you do.'_

'_Yeah well I'm 17.'_

_She rubbed her shoulder against his, giving him a pleading look._

'_Oh alright but take it easy.'_

_Morgana lay sprawled out on the ground, one arm behind her head, staring up into the sky. Arthur continued to draw in his sketching pad._

'_I love camping,' she murmured sounding half sloshed 'you think father will let me take up fencing.'_

_Arthur snorted in reply, as if. _

'_I sometimes dream that I'm fighting with a sword and it feels so good, like I feel powerful.'_

_Arthur snorted again. 'People don't fight with swords anymore Morgana.'_

_She rolled over and looked at him thoughtfully._

'_Are you still drawing.'_

'_Nothing else to do.'_

_She sat up and managed to scramble to her feet, swaying slightly before stumbling over to him and plonking herself down on the log._

'_I don't feel so good.'_

'_Welcome to the evils of alcohol,' he returned with a grin._

'_I'm not drinking ever again,' she mumbled leaning against him._

_That's what they all say, he mused but in her case he hoped so. She was far too young to be drinking._

_Her eyes rested on the sketch pad._

'_Who is the boy?' she asked._

'_I don't know?'_

'_Why is he holding out his hands and the other two men flying backwards?'_

'_He has magic.'_

'_Where is his wand?' _

_Arthur rolled his eyes._

'_It's not Harry Potter Morgana,' he exclaimed ' besides he doesn't need one'_

'_Then how does he do the magic?'_

_Arthur stopped drawing, a puzzled frown crossing his forehead. 'I don't know?'_

'_You're really good at drawing, you should be studying Art.'_

_Arthur snorted again. 'I can I really see that go down well with father.'_

'_Screw daddy, you should stand up to him, you shouldn't have to stop doing things you like to please him.'_

_Arthur closed the sketch pad, shook his head sadly. _

'_I think it's time we went to sleep.'_

_He stood up and Morgana joined him, nearly toppling over. He steadied her with his hands. Her eyes met his._

'_You should remain true to yourself Arthur.'_

Arthur, utterly exhausted, sweating pouring down his face slowed down the treadmill till it stopped. He gripped both sides of the handle bars, breathing heavily. Tears threatened. He fought them back. What the hell was wrong with him? Why did his life feel so empty?

"I'm sorry," a female spoke from the doorway and turning his head he glanced at Morgana.

She stood there in her tight mini dress, over stylized hair and make-up too heavy barely resembling the 15 year old girl camping with him in the forest. It made his heart ache for reasons he couldn't understand. He swallowed the lump in his throat.

"Me too."

* * *

Merlin bumbled is way around the back of the old antique shop. It was a quiet day, the first in a while. People seemed to be garnering an interest in the type of old relics he kept these days. He found it oddly amusing, these changes; people searching for that old world.

A little coloured television was blaring away in the corner and a voice disturbingly familiar caught Merlin's interest. He glanced at the screen and there stood Uther in all of his glory, the so called leader of the Pendragon Industries, the most powerful industry currently operating in all of Britain.

Ironic, Merlin mused. He still didn't know what to make of it but he now knew Arthur existed. At least he hoped. Merlin had to fight the temptation to track him down. Just too lay eyes on him again after all these years. Was he the same? Was he really the Arthur he was once knew his dear old friend? But it wasn't time yet. And Merlin understood time, the right moments, living so many years had taught him that.

Uther was bragging about his latest business conquest. He already had a reputation for being heartless and ruthless. Merlin glanced back at the television.

"Old tryant," he snorted.

He heard the sudden jingling of a bell alerting him to the fact that someone had entered the shop.

"I'll be there shortly," he called out.

He took one look at Uther. The faces of those people he once knew had become faded and fragmented with time. And it had been so many many years since he saw them last but Uther did bear a striking resemblance to his former self. Picking up the remote Merlin turned the television off, calmed himself and went to greet the customer.

She stood staring at the wall that displayed a number of different types of swords, her long dark hair falling in one straight soft pretty wave to her waist. There was something strangely familiar about her. Merlin moved quietly till he could see the side profile of her face.

"Can I help you," he spoke.

She turned and looked at him, a small smile crossing her face and if his eyes were not deceiving him he could have sworn she looked just like Morgana.

"I was looking to buy a sword," she replied and her voice sent chills down his spine.

It couldn't be ... could it? His heart rate increased in tempo.

"I'm not normally from this part of town but I happened to drive past your antique store and it intrigued me," she continued.

She was so much like the kind, sweet Morgana he'd first met that it made his heart ache.

"What is your name?" he asked.

She frowned slightly as if wondering why he was asking. "Morgana."

Well there was no denying it now and he could scarcely believe his eyes. It had been over a thousand years and why now?

"Morgana," he murmured, the name feeling rusty on his lips.

She returned her attention to the swords.

"I've never seen swords like this before."

"They are the finest in all of England and some dating back many hundreds of years."

"Where did you find them?" she asked politely.

"I'm a collector, it's my hobby and I've been around long enough to know what the real thing is and what isn't."

Morgana smiled and he smiled in return. It was an odd sight to behold.

"What sort of sword are you looking for?" he enquired.

"Something old but with a hint of nobility to it."

Merlin's smile widened and his heart just about jumped into his throat at the word _nobility_.

"It's a birthday present."

"For someone special?"

She nodded. "My brother."

"What is his name?" he softly asked.

"Arthur."

_Arthur _tears gathered in Merlin's eyes _was it his Arthur? _It had to be.

"Though I'm not sure if he'll approve of such a present," Morgana continued "he seriously needs to lighten up."

Yes he always did Merlin mused and a short brief laugh escaped his throat. Morgana frowned and Merlin pulled himself up with a start.

"I'm afraid he takes himself far too seriously," she murmured, a thoughtful expression crossing her face.

That sounded just like Arthur.

"I worry about him."

Merlin detected a hint of sadness in her eyes. "I worry about what father will turn him into."

Morgana shook her head a wry smile crossing her face. "I don't even know why I'm telling you this."

"I guess I just have one of those faces," he said kindly "old, weather beaten, probably reminds you of your grandfather."

Her eyes rested on his face and a soft smile curved her lips.

"Yes I think you do."

Merlin stood there basking in the sweet moment, happy to see the kind and thoughtful Morgana of old. He quickly pulled himself together, broke eye contact.

"I think I have just the right sword for Arthur, wait here."

Merlin shuffled to the back of the shop, hope and excitement swelling in his heart mingled with sadness. Once the door was closed he leant against it for support.

_I worry about what father will turn him into _came Morgana's words. Tears trickled down Merlin's nose but he wouldn't let that happen. Making his stiff limbs move Merlin opened the old chest, the only one he had left from Camelot times and pulled out a sword. He had only managed to collect a few swords forged in the heart of Camelot and had cherished them over the years.

Merlin carefully laid the sword down on his work bench and looked at it longingly. He ran an old gnarled hand over the smooth blade, wiping away the tears with his other hand. There was no time for sentimentality.

_When the time is right Arthur, remember me _he murmured and his eyes glowed with golden light.

It had been a long time since he last performed any magic and his heart lifted in the same way it did when he was a young boy. Hope filled his heart.

Arthur had returned. Did this mean the return of Albion?

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**A/N: Now I sit here anxiously biting my finger nails in nervous anticipation about what people will think of this chapter. Please let me know. So far I'm really enjoying writing this story and I hope people are enjoying reading it. I am most anxious to see what people think.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **I hadn't really thought out in much detail where to take this story. I had some vague ideas and spent the morning plotting and scheming and finally came up with something that excited me. Something I think hasn't been done before. I know the Pendragon Industry has been done a lot, not that I've read much as I am new to Merlin fanfiction but this story takes quite a different turn as you will find out when you read it.

I didn't even think I would get this chapter finished today but it seemed once I had a definite idea on where I was going with this story the words when I wrote them just flowed.

Enjoy!

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_**Chapter Two. Arthur's 21**__**st**__** Birthday**_

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Arthur stared glumly at his reflection in the mirror. Here he was 21 years of age with no idea on what he wanted to do with his life. No doubt his father would be giving some grand speech tonight about him coming of age and being a major player in the Pendragon Industries. His whole life was mapped out for him by his father and he felt powerless to stop it. He didn't want it. He didn't want to work for Pendragon industries, hated every moment of studying his business degree. But at the same time he had no idea on what else he could do, what he wanted to become? His life simply lacked direction.

"Trying to decide how to wear your pretty hair tonight," came Morgana's teasing voice.

She was always giving him shit about his hair saying stupid stuff like _girls would kill to have you're coloured hair w_hen she wasn't calling him _the golden boy_ which then usually led to _the apple of daddy's eye._

'Don't you believe in knocking Morgana," he returned.

She was obviously here to give him a hard time about something and he reluctantly turned to look at her. His eyes rested on the very long thin rectangular case in her hands and he frowned.

"What's that?"

"Your birthday present," she smiled.

Morgana had brought him a present. He hadn't expected that and felt unusually touched.

"Don't look so shocked Arthur. It is your 21st after all."

He didn't know what to say. She approached him and held out the case.

"Happy birthday Arthur," she smiled in that sweet way of hers.

He took the case from her, eyeing it curiously. What had she brought him?

"Open it," she continued barely concealing the excitement in her voice.

Arthur unclasped the clips and slowly pushed the lid back. A silver sword with a golden hilt glittered in the box and Arthur stared at it entranced for a moment.

"Well?" Morgana asked anxiously.

"Is this your subtle way in trying to convince me to take up fencing with you?" he lightly enquired, glancing at her.

"Hmm maybe, only because I know you would love it."

Arthur's eyes rested back on the sword. There was something so familiar about it.

"Pick it up," Morgana instructed "hold it in your hand."

Arthur did as she instructed and his hand seemed to move of its own volition, knowing exactly what to do. Sudden warmth rushed into his hand as he picked the sword up and held it out in front of him. He gazed at it, trance-like and a feeling he couldn't even begin to describe washed over him _he had done this before._ A slow smile crossed his face. Somehow he felt complete, connected to an invisible force he couldn't comprehend. And it felt good.

"You like it?" Morgana asked.

He smiled a real genuine smile.

"I love it."

Morgana grinned. "It suits you."

Arthur sliced through the air with it.

"You know for someone who has never handled a sword before you seem to know what you're doing," Morgana remarked.

It was strange Arthur mused but it was as if his hand remembered something he didn't.

"Where did you get it from?" he asked, still gazing at the sword in awe.

"It's funny but I was driving through this small village when I spied this antique shop and it intrigued me," Morgana began, a thoughtful look crossing her face.

"You can't imagine my surprise when I go inside and find all these relics from a bygone era, stuff I've never seen before and then I saw the swords and then ... then I thought of you."

Arthur lowered the sword and fixed his eyes on her. Why would she think of him?

"There was this old man," she continued, a slow smile crossing her face "he looked as ancient as the old relics in the shop but his eyes ..." her voice trailed off there as if she was wrestling with a puzzling thought.

"His eyes were what?" he prompted, feeling strangely curious.

"Alive, bright and somehow knowing," she murmured.

Arthur frowned.

"He knew everything about swords, he said that sword was very old," Morgana continued gesturing to the sword in his hand.

Arthur looked back down at the sword, a strange feeling forming in the pit of his stomach.

Morgana gave a wistful laugh and shook her head.

"I know this is going to sound crazy but it's as if he knew me."

"You into old men now Morgana?" he lightly teased.

She looked up with a start and pulled a face. "Don't be so disgusting Arthur."

He grinned and laid the sword back in its case, running a hand across the blade which seemed to hum and his fingers tingled _remember me._ Arthur withdrew his hand, frowning. That was odd.

Dragging his gaze away from the sword he turned to face Morgana.

"Thank you for the present Morgana," he smiled and pulled her into his arms.

"That was thoughtful of you."

"Well you are my brother," she murmured in his hair "you mean everything to me."

Her words warmed his heart. It had been a long while since he had hugged her and it felt as if something had at last been put right between them.

* * *

Father was in fine form, bragging about his son enough to make Arthur feel like puking. He had to be polite and courteous. It was expected of him after all, his so called royal duties. But he was bored out of his brain and it was with great relief when he clad eyes on his friend Gwaine. He strolled over to him, grabbing him by the arm. Gwaine was supposed to be here two hours ago.

"Where have you been?" he hissed in his ear.

Gwaine turned to him, and Arthur could smell the alcohol on his breath.

"You have a long driveway," he returned with a grin "took me near an hour to reach this fine mansion on the hill."

"Why didn't you just drive?"

"I lost my licence."

"Again!"

Gwaine was two years older than him but you wouldn't think so by the way he acted.

"You're looking every bit the prince," Gwaine smiled in that teasing way, his eyes raking over Arthur's clothes "now all you need is a crown to sit on your big head."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Prince my ass," he snorted.

Gwaine laughed and glanced around the room. "Well this party is looking a bit dull my friend, I think it needs livening up."

What had Gwaine up his sleeve now? Arthur dreaded to think but at the same time couldn't wait to know. Gwaine was always up to no good and Arthur kind of liked that about him.

Gwaine pulled out a bottle of vodka from underneath his jacket.

"Watch and learn princess."

Arthur watched him move to the punch bowl and pour the bottle of vodka into it. Arthur quickly glanced around to see if anyone was watching. Gwaine gave him the thumbs up before returning to his side.

"That should liven things up," he smirked.

It most certainly did, especially the general Sarum, a best friend of his father and a man Arthur didn't particularly like. But seeing as Pendragon Industries supplied most of the weaponry for the military services he was important. He knew the General never drank alcohol.

"Seems the general really likes that punch," Gwaine spoke in his ear with a mischievous grin.

Arthur had never seen Sarum so merry, the man was almost likeable. At one stage he came up to him and Gwaine, placing arm around their shoulders.

"You two young men should think about joining the Army," he announced in a somewhat slurred voice "there is no finer honour than fighting for your country."

"Or dying for it," Gwaine muttered under his breath, making Arthur smile.

"You're not trying to talk my son into joining the military services are you Sarum?" Uther enquired as he approached them. The smile left Arthur's face.

"He's a fine young man Uther."

"And his place is here with me, with Pendragon Industries."

Arthur gritted his teeth, swallowed the sudden resentment he felt towards his father. A new resolve washed over him. What if was to say no? Though now was hardly the place or time to say it to his father but the word _no _was starting to take firm hold in his mind.

"Of course," Sarum nodded "I'm sure he'll be an asset to your company, now if you'll excuse me I'm going to get another glass of fruit punch."

Arthur noticed the frown on his father's forehead as he watched Sarum stumbled over to the punch bowl.

Gwaine sniggered and Uther's eyes rested on him before narrowing. Uther then glanced at him with a _why did you invite him _look before turning away.

"What I can say, you're old man is as charming as ever," Gwaine remarked.

Arthur stared after his father's retreating back resentfully.

"That he is."

"So you going to let him run your life for you?" Gwaine said, irritating Arthur.

"You're beginning to sound like Morgana now."

"I must admit she is look incredibly sexy tonight," Gwaine smiled and Arthur glared at him.

"Don't even think about it," he growled.

Gwaine patted him on the back and grinned, brushing his too long hair out of his eyes.

"In case you have noticed but she's not a kid anymore."

He had noticed but he still wasn't prepared to have Gwaine hit on her. Arthur patted Gwaine on the shoulder this time and gave a grim smile.

"She's off limits to you."

* * *

The night wore on. Uther gave his big speech about how fine his son was, how he would be working full time for the Pendragon Industry once he had finished his degree in two months and he couldn't prouder. Arthur forced a smile to his lips and wished to be anywhere but here. How did he escape this life his father had planned out for him? His eyes met with Morgana's. She shook her head before glaring back at their father with carefully concealed hate which puzzled him. Why did she hate him so much?

Once Uther had finished his fine speech Gwaine started singing _for he's a jolly good fellow, for his a jolly good fellow and so say all of us and so say all of us._

Arthur couldn't help grinning in amusement. Gwaine was definitely pissed now, as usual. He felt his father grab his arm.

"Do something about him," he hissed.

"Yes father," Arthur returned and grabbing Gwaine by the arm he began pulling him towards the door.

"Do you know how much a fool you are making of yourself," he told him.

But Gwaine merely put an arm around his neck.

"Your my best mate, even if ya are a bit of princess at times," Gwaine slurred his breath reeking of alcohol and Arthur screwed up his nose.

He could never understand the nickname princess? When he'd asked Gwaine why, Gwaine had merely smirked and said _because you're too bloody precious, that's how your old man treats you as if you're the most important possession he has_.

Arthur had to nearly carry Gwaine by the time they reached the spare bedroom. He gladly dumped Gwaine on the bed, before removing his shoes.

"Don't do it Arthur," Gwaine murmured groggily "don't work for your father, you really want him controlling your life?"

"Sleep it off Gwaine," Arthur returned not unkindly.

Gwaine laid back and Arthur counted to ten. As usual Gwaine was out like a light before he'd reached ten. Arthur stared down at him, Gwaine's words bothering him _you really want him controlling your life? _ No he didn't but what else could he do? It wasn't that simple. How did he say no and see the disappointment in his father's eyes? Arthur yanked a hand through his hair in frustration.

He left the room but the last thing he felt like was returning to the party. Arthur went to his bedroom instead. He needed some time out. Sitting down on the edge of his bed he reached for the remote and flicked the television on barely paying attention to it. He lay down, glanced up at the ceiling, feeling his frustration and dissatisfaction with his life gnawing away at him. Turning his head to the side, his eyes fell on the case containing the sword. He rolled off the bed and walked over to the case, opening it and pulling the sword out. He gazed at it for a long moment. Strange how it seemed to have a calming effect on him and Arthur's eyes traveled over the blade. He knew this sword ... from somewhere.

"I'm proud to be attached to the Royal Dragoon Guards," a voice wafted from the television set "it's given my life meaning."

Arthur glanced at the television.

"Before I joined the Army my life was going nowhere but now I have a purpose, I'm proud to serve my country, protect it, defend it, help restore peace in Afghanistan, free countries from tyranny."

Arthur slowly sat down on his bed, sword still in his hand, a thought taking place in his mind.

_There is no finer honour than fighting for your country _General Sarum's words_._

_You're not trying to talk my son into joining the military services are you Sarum? His place is here with me, with Pendragon Industries._

No it wasn't. His place wasn't with his father and he was going to do something his father would absolutely hate, something that would send him into a rage.

He was going to enlist in the Army.

* * *

_One Month Later_

* * *

Morgana was sitting at the breakfast table, flicking through a fashion magazine and nibbling on her toast. Uther was at the head of table, reading the paper when Arthur walked into the dining room.

Arthur put his plate of bacon and eggs on the table and sat down opposite to her. Morgana glanced at him. He looked sort of pale and there was a strange sort of feverish light in his eyes as if he was nervous about something. It puzzled her. Arthur had been unusually quiet the last couple of weeks.

"Father I need to tell you something," he spoke, breaking the silence.

Uther barely glanced up from the paper.

"What is it Arthur?"

Morgana watched Arthur take a deep breath.

"I've enlisted to join the Army. I leave for the Royal Military Academy at Sandhurst in five weeks."

Morgana nearly choked on a piece of toast.

Uther's head shot up. "You what!" he roared.

Arthur held his head high and met Uther's outraged glare.

"I forbid it!" he yelled, getting up from his chair "no son of mine is going to become a soldier, you're place is with Pendragon Industries."

He pointed an angry finger at Arthur, looking so intimidating that Morgana shuddered.

Arthur sat there calmly and Morgana could hardly believe it. This wasn't like Arthur. Arthur rarely crossed his father and this ... this was dramatic and unexpected.

"My mind is made up father and you can't stop me," Arthur stated.

Morgana's eyes widened.

"Well when you are done playing soldiers don't expect you can ever return here!" Uther yelled before storming out of the room.

Arthur shoulders slumped and he let out a breath.

"Well that went well," he managed to say and glanced at her.

Morgana was still too shocked to say anything. Amusement flicked in Arthur's eyes.

"Cat got your tongue Morgana."

She shut her mouth.

"Are you out of your mind Arthur?" she gasped.

He frowned. "I thought you'd be pleased?"

"I am pleased to see you stand up to father but joining the Army," her voice broke off there, what had he been thinking "isn't that rather extreme?"

Arthur tilted his head to the side thoughtfully.

"I've given this a lot of thought and it's what I want to do."

Morgana swallowed the lump in her throat.

"What if you get killed, what if there is a war ..."

"I have more chance of being killed in a car accident given the high road death toll," Arthur dryly returned.

"Not if there is a war!"

Arthur just looked at her patiently. Morgana could see that his mind was set and she leant back in her seat, still in disbelief.

"Five weeks," she sighed "only five weeks till you leave."

The house would be horribly empty without him here and it was for purely selfish reasons that she didn't want him to go. Her eyes rested on his face, his fair hair that fell over his brow into his eyes.

"You know you'll have to cut all of that pretty hair off," she pointed out, trying to compose herself, trying to inject some humour into a tense moment "you'll look awful."

She managed a smug smile. "I can't wait to see that."

Arthur gave a faint smile in return.

"I bet you can't."

Then his face went serious and warmth filled his eyes.

"Thanks for understanding Morgana."

* * *

Arthur stood at the front of the Royal Military Academy. The five weeks had flown by and he could hardly believe this was happening. That he Arthur Pendragon had defied his father and walked away from the business to join the Army. His father had scarcely spoken to him since he broke the news. Not that he expected him to. _He'll come around eventually _Morgana had said _you are after all the apple of his eye_. The apple now fallen from the tree in disgrace but he was at peace with this decision. This is what he was supposed to do even if his father no longer wanted to know him.

"Impressive isn't it," a very familiar voice spoke.

Arthur turned his head and looked at Gwaine in shock. It took a moment for it to sink in that Gwaine was actually standing there alongside him.

"W-What are you doing here?" he finally gasped.

Gwaine grinned. "You think I was going to let you go off and have all the adventure and glory on your own."

Arthur's eyes widened.

"Not to mention girls love a man in uniform."

"You've enlisted?"

He couldn't believe it.

"Why didn't you tell me before?"

"Just my little secret."

Arthur laughed.

"You still manage to completely surprise me."

Gwaine grinned and patted him on the back.

"Face it Arthur, you'd have no fun without me."

Arthur looked at his friend with renewed respect. And he was right. Gwaine levelled him, stopped him from taking himself too seriously.

"I'm glad to have you by my side."

* * *

It wasn't the same when Arthur left. Morgana had her friends, a social life and her studies but without Arthur around to tease and annoy life was strangely empty. Arthur in many ways had kept her grounded. Now she felt lost.

Father was like a bear with a sore head and she saw even less of him for which she was thankful. But life was lonely now. That is why she had this wild crazy desire to see the old man at the antique shop. As if he would have answers she laughed to herself as she parked the car. This was silly, she chided.

How was an old man going to help her?

Morgana climbed out of the car shaking her head. But it wasn't answers she was really looking for, just someone to talk to. Someone outside of her circle of friends. Someone with wisdom.

She stood outside the shop, gazing at the door for a long silent moment, torn in two directions. She was standing there for so long she didn't even hear anyone approach.

"You can go in if you like," a voice spoke and she spun around to see the old man.

"Morgana," he continued, a puzzled frown on his forehead.

"You have a good memory," she began.

"For someone so old," he finished for her, a twinkle in his eye. "What brings you this way?"

You, she almost said and pulled herself up.

"I just had to check out some more of those fascinating relics you collect."

Seeming satisfied with that answer he unlocked the door, opened it and gestured for her to go inside.

Morgana stepped into the shop. It was like stepping into the past. The old man put the parcel he carried on to the counter.

"I've just brewed some tea, would you like a cup?"

She watched him disappear into a back room.

"No I'm good thank you."

Morgana's eyes rested on the display of brooches on the counter. They were like nothing she'd ever seen before and they fascinated her.

The old man returned with a mug in his hand, setting it down on the counter.

"Did Arthur like the sword?" he asked.

He really did have a good memory for such an old man.

"Yes he did," she replied "I've never seen him ... I've never seen that light in his eyes before."

The old man smiled, seeming pleased.

"It was the right sword for him," he said.

How would he know that, Morgana mused.

"He's even fencing with me now, I never thought that would happen and he's surprisingly good at it," she said, not knowing why she felt she could tell this old person anything.

"I'm glad." He nodded.

"I think he even sleeps with it," she grinned.

The old man grinned in return.

"How is he?" he asked.

Morgana frowned slightly. Strange but it's almost seemed as if he knew Arthur. And where did she begin to discuss him to this man, the foolish thing Arthur was doing. How she was worried about him.

"You seem sad," he softly spoke.

She swallowed. "That fool brother of mine has gone and joined the Army," she blurted out.

The old man looked startled for a moment.

"Arthur joined the Army?"

"As an officer, he has some grand dream about going to Camp Bastion in Afghanistan and help restore peace there, as if it'll give his life purpose," Morgana broke off bitterly "I think he just wants to play hero."

"And that is a bad thing?" the old man asked.

"It's dangerous there, what if he's killed?"

Morgana lowered her eyes, suddenly embarrassed. She really was being so frank with a total stranger, not that he felt like a stranger the more she thought about it.

"Father is furious," she continued "the only good thing to come out of it."

Silence followed and after a few minutes Morgana looked up at the old man. He appeared to be deep in thought. Then his eyes met hers, eyes that were so familiar.

"What are you going to do?" he quietly asked, surprising her. It was as if he cared. How could that be? He didn't even know her.

"It's not the same without Arthur here," she replied sadly "I'm even thinking of doing something as equally crazy and joining the Army myself."

The old man seemed surprised and then he surprised her even more by saying.

"Why don't you."

Her mouth opened and then closed again. She could, she guessed.

"But doing what?" she frowned.

There was that twinkle in his eye again. "I somehow get the feeling you'd do well in the field of becoming a strategist."

Morgana felt a smile curving her mouth. She had done the right thing by coming here and seeing him.

* * *

After Morgana had left Merlin sat down in an old wicker chair for what seemed like ages, his mind whirling. Arthur joined the Army. Yes that seemed fitting somehow, that would be Arthur, wanting to restore peace, leading men into battle if need be.

A slow smile began to cross his old weather beaten face. A hope he'd dared not let into his heart after so many years filled him.

Everything had come full circle. Fate was beginning to stir again, his destiny about to start, with Arthur. A thousand years later.

It was time.

Time to become the young Merlin again.

* * *

**A/N: **So what did you think? I would love some feedback. In fact I'm sort of hanging out for it!

The more I thought about the time of Albion rising again the more I started thinking about when would that need be? I can't see that need just yet but maybe ten years from now who knows? I also thought about how Arthur would fit into this modern day age of ours? Where would he belong? And somehow becoming an Officer in the Army seemed the most likeliest of places. I was also sort of encouraged, during my many hours researching the internet this morning by these words spoken by Tony Blair in 2006 when he visited Camp Bastion in Afghanistan _"it is an extraordinary piece_ _of desert where the fate of world security in the early 21__st__ century is going to be decided."_

I'm also in a bit of a dilemma. It's kind of important to the story that young Merlin goes by a different name for the time being and you will see why later in the story but I have no idea on what name to give him. I would love suggestions on this.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **Thanks for the all the reviews to date, though not as many as I would have liked to inform me on how people are enjoying this story but enough to keep me continuing. So please leave a review if you would like me to continue? It's always very much appreciated and they do inspire me.

I have a very definite plan for this story. And it is different so far from anything I have read to date, though the true heart of the characters remain.

Trying to find suitable names is always hard so I based my names purely on their meaning. Audric means wise Ruler and Emmett, which is old English means 'streams meeting' which I though quite apt for Merlin.

This story is a bit angst driven in the first half but needed to be told.

Enjoy.

* * *

_**Chapter Three. Merlin and Gwen**_

* * *

Merlin ran as fast as he could. The wind sifting through his hair as he tore full pace down the slope of the hill, hurdling over falling logs as if they were mere twigs, dodging low hanging branches with an agility he'd forgotten he'd ever possessed. He marvelled at the strength in his legs, there was no shortness of breath, no creaking bones. No aches and pains.

Is this what if felt to be young again?

It had been so long and such elation, such freedom. He had been an old man for over a thousand years, keeping that form because he'd been unable to get past all of his grief, fated to live an immortal life, seeing everyone he loved and cared for pass into death and he'd been denied it, denied any rest, denied joining his loved ones when the moment came. And there had been so many moments, too many painful goodbyes that tore at his heart, making him want to grip fiercely at his hair and scream in frustration at the unjustness of it all.

Becoming young again meant the return of every living memory. As he knew it would.

So he ran. It was the only way he could deal with it.

_Merlin knew something was seriously wrong when his eyes met with Audric's. Such sorrow and sadness there, causing his breath to catch in his throat. _

"_Gwen?" he quickly enquired._

_Audric shook his head miserably. "Mother has taken a turn for the worse."_

_Merlin's heart sank. He should never have left but Gwen had insisted when he had told her that people were falling ill from a strange malady in his old home town of Ealdor._

"_She has ..." Audric broke off there and Merlin could see the grief overwhelming him "she has been waiting for you."_

_He took the steps slowly to her chambers, heart heavy, knowing this day would come and dreading it. Audric had fallen into silence beside him. Gwen had appointed him king six months ago knowing her health was failing and the young man, so much like his father in spirit, had struggled since despite his outwardly attempts that everything was fine to the people of Camelot. Only Merlin knew Audric better than anyone else, knew of his struggles._

"_I can't lose her," Audric muttered softly, reminding Merlin of another time and place, of Arthur saying the exact same thing._

_And I can't cure her, his bitter thought for what Gwen had was only known as a darkness that spread throughout the body consuming everything that was healthy inside. He'd seen it often enough, there was no name for it and it wasn't caused by magic. His magic was useless against it, he could slow down how quickly the darkness spread but he couldn't cure it._

"_I'm sorry Audric," Merlin sadly shook his head._

_Merlin reached Gwen's chamber doors and taking a deep breath, fearful of what he might find as he pushed the doors open. He was mostly only fearful of the sorrow he knew he was about to face._

"_I'll wait out here," Audric said "she wants to see you alone."_

_Merlin numbly nodded and walked into the chambers. A fire glowing in the hearth cast the room into a soft yellow hue. Gwen lay on the settee near the fireplace, eyes closed. Merlin could see the shallowness of her breaths, the way her now greying hair curled over her shoulder. A shawl was placed around her thin shoulders. There was something clutched in her hands and as Merlin neared he could now see it was Arthur's ring. A breath, half sob caught in his throat. It may have been 30 years since Arthur's death and whilst the pain had lessened the grief always resided in his heart. As it had done when Gaius died, along with his last conversation with the dragon Kilgareth and what was left of the knights of the round table, a table that had once symbolised equality in a society when such a notion hadn't exist. _

_Gwen was his last link to that lost world, his lifetime friend. Falling on his knees to bring his face closer to hers, he gently brushed her hair back from her face. She was only 60, too young to leave him yet._

"_Gwen," he murmured._

_Her eyes flittered open and a warm smile crossed her tired face when she saw him._

"_Merlin," she breathed._

_It was almost too much for Merlin to bear, seeing her this way._

"_You can't leave me yet," his voice hoarse with emotion "Gwen you are all I have."_

_Tears welled in her eyes. "Not all, there is Audric."_

_He shut his eyes and nodded. There is nothing he wouldn't do for Arthur's son._

"_You are a ... father to him Merlin ... his mentor ... his friend," Gwen managed to get out between short painful gasps of air. _

"_Upon my word Gwen I will look after him as I always have done."_

_Her eyelids drifted shut, her eyelashes dark against her pale sickly skin. "I know," she sighed "I have faith in you."_

_Tears burned the back of his eyes. How many times did he have to feel grief? It was too much. His burden to bear alone, this cursed life of immortality._

_Gwen's eyes opened and he could see the pain she was in. She didn't have long for this world._

"_Merlin," she whispered, tears gathering in her eyes "make yourself young again, let me look upon you as I first saw you all those years ago."_

_Merlin screwed his eyes shut but the tears slipped through._

"_Gwen ... I ... I" he began in a broken voice._

_He felt her hand slip into his, so weak and frail but still with enough strength to squeeze his fingers._

"_L-Let it be the last thing I see ... let ... me remember ... please."_

_He nodded. That was all he felt capable of. Closing his eyes he softly chanted the words that would once again make him young. He felt the change take place in his body, the loosening of stiffened limbs and whilst he wasn't quite the 80 year old man he used to pretend to be, only letting himself age gradually as if he'd been normal because it was the only way to feel connected to those around him. Even if he was anything but normal, he was still after all human._

_He slowly raised his eyes to meet hers. A smile trembled on her lips, tears slipped unheeded down her cheeks._

"_Merlin," she breathed raising a hand and touching his face._

_For a brief sweet moment he shared his memories with her till a look of peace and contentment crossed her face erasing the pain she'd suffered. Her eyes slowly began to close, the light fading in them. "Thank you," she softly breathed, before her body went still._

_Tears poured down Merlin cheeks. No, no, it couldn't be over, not yet, not so soon._

"_Gwen," his voice cracking with emotion but he already knew the life had passed from her body._

_He buried his face in his hands. All the repressed emotion of the last 30 years welling up inside of him and his magic swirled like a powerful invisible force, seeking for an outlet._

_He couldn't control it. His eyes glowed with the grief he felt, all the windows of the castle smashing into a billion pieces._

"_Noooo!" he yelled in an anguish sob._

_Walls trembled, the ground shook, dark clouds amassed in the skies above. _

_Faintly in the background he heard someone calling his name. Audric. He locked the doors of the chamber with a spell before Audric had a chance to enter. Audric should not witness this. His grief and rage was an uncontainable. His whole body shook with uncontrolled shudders. He fought to repress the emotions, his magic, too much of a living tangible force within him._

"_Merlin!" he heard Audric yelling and the banging of his fists on the locked doors "Merlin!"_

_It was the anguish in Audric's voice that finally sank through. Merlin felt the fire leave his body and almost collapsed to the ground in exhaustion._

_It was over. Gwen was dead. _

_His eyes rested on her still form. The anger and grief replaced with a deep overwhelming sadness._

_Reaching out a weary hand Merlin removed the rings from Gwen's clenched hand, rings that spoke of her and Arthur's reunion, and love. He gripped them in his own hand, till his knuckles whitened and then with a pained resolve he stood to his feet. He gazed down at Gwen's lifeless body for what seemed an eternity. Then he staggered backwards, unable to look at her so, spinning around, catching his reflection in the mirror upon the wall. Gazing at his young face, hating what he saw. _

_Merlin murmured the words that would make him old. _

_He would never be young again._

Merlin stood at the edge of the lake, gasping for air. His lungs felt on fire. It did little to ease the pain in his heart. He slumped to the ground as the memories crowded his brain in the want to be remembered once more. Images of old flashed through his mind like a film in rewind but not all of them unpleasant. The good mixed with the bad.

He and Gwen with Leon and Percival in tow making their yearly pilgrimage to the Lake of Avalon on the anniversary of Arthur's death, a young four year old Audric sitting on the saddle in front, wanting to take control of the reins and Merlin patiently instructing him as he always did. The solemn look in the boy's large blue eyes, so much like Arthur's that sometimes it would make his breath catch in his throat. Those were the happy times. Times Merlin had cherished and held dear in his heart. If only it could be like that _forever_ but forever was always short lived.

Ten years after Gwen had died the time of war came once again, a war not even Merlin could win.

Whisking Audric's two children to safety after he'd died and the kingdom had fallen. Honouring the words of Audric as he lay there dying from battle wounds _get them to safety Merlin_ as if his life depended on it _all is loss_.

He'd found a safe sleepy village and a young childless couple to take the children in. The pendragon lineage endured, though not as Kings and Queens but as everyday people. And as the generations passed by Merlin receded into the shadows and the invisibility that old age brought with it.

The lake stirred and rippled as if sensing Merlin was there. And he knew. The time of Albion was at hand. It was starting all over again. Hope stirred in his heart. It was a new beginning. Whatever it may bring he was ready to face it.

* * *

_June 2010_

* * *

Gwen could hardly believe what she was doing. The moment had arrived and the six month waiting period had flown by far quicker than she thought it would. Today she would officially be sworn into becoming a soldier for the British Army. Nerves were an understatement. She bit down on her lip, tugged at her demure black skirt, quickly checked to make sure her equally demure blue blouse was buttoned up appropriately. Her hands flew to her hair, making sure there were no loose tendrils escaping from the tight confines of her bun. She was trying to look the part. Perhaps she was trying too hard she quickly thought when her eyes rested on a slim young woman, wearing only jeans and pretty jade blouse, hair flowing freely. Not as if she was in the armed services just yet.

The door to the room where they were to swear an Oath of Allegiance opened and Gwen nervously entered, finding the closest available seat and quietly sitting down. She sat there expectantly watching people file into the room, sizing them up, an odd assortment of people both men and women. A nervous anticipation taking hold for today would be her last day as a civilian. Tomorrow she was about to embark on a whole different journey in her life. She crossed her legs, clasped her hands together in her lap and watched as the officer went to close the door. Just at that moment a young man quickly stepped through, his eyes scanning the room before looking at the officer nervously.

"Sorry I'm late," he hastily said, his face reddening.

"Hope this isn't a regular thing for you private," the officer chided "wouldn't want to get off to a bad start on your first day."

Gwen couldn't help a small smile at the sudden stricken look on the young man's face. He really was very young and much too thin, his unkempt dark hair on the longish side. He hardly fitted the part of a soldier.

"Yes sir," the young man stammered before quickly moving to a seat at the far back.

There was something so familiar about him _I know him. _Gwen glanced over her shoulder at the lanky young man, his jeans too baggy, the crumpled white shirt and those eyes. Too large in his thin face, eyes of the deepest blue, eyes full of life and a childlike innocence and something else too _eyes that had lived and seen too much_.

_This is crazy _Gwen silently chided to herself _she had never seen him before._

Merlin's face still burned with embarrassment. Being on time, keeping track of time was something he hadn't yet adjusted to. The officer at the front addressed the 40 seated eagerly awaiting newly to be recruits of the British Army. He spoke of honour, loyalty and the discipline required to _be a proud soldier _willing to fit for the Queen and country. Words Merlin hadn't heard for a long time but words still reminiscence of olden days and values.

Some things hadn't changed.

The officer led them through the Oath of Allegiance. Merlin raised his right hand, as did everyone in that room.

"I swear by almighty God that I will be faithful and bear true allegiance to Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II, her heirs and successors and that I will as in duty bound honestly and faithfully defend her Majesty, her heirs and successors in person, crown and dignity against all enemies and will observe and obey all orders of her Majesty, her heirs and successors and of the generals and officers set over me." His voice ringing loud and clear and oh the irony.

Here he was swearing an Oath to Queen Elizabeth II when there had once been a day when he'd sworn a similar oath to the Queen of Camelot.

Queen Guinevere.

He still remembered that day.

_One knee on the ground, head bowed before his Queen._

"_I knight you Merlin Court Sorcerer, first advisor to the Queen of Camelot."_

_Her sword rested on his right shoulder._

"_Do you swear allegiance to the Queen of Camelot, her heirs and successors and all that is duty bound to this kingdom?"_

"_I do solemnly swear my Queen."_

_He could barely believe what was taking place._

"_I swear my allegiance and will always remain duty bound, faithfully defending Camelot against foes and enemies alike for as long as I am fit to do so," he continued._

"_You may arise Merlin."_

_Merlin stood up, tried to control his nerves, his eyes met with Gwen. He saw the smile in her eyes. She was so proud of him. He quickly glanced at Gaius and noted the grin there._

_He took his place alongside Gwen._

"_I give you Lord Merlin, Court sorcerer of Camelot and advisor to the Queen," she announced before the royal court._

_He felt her fingers squeeze his._

"_My Queen," he bowed._

_So he addressed her by the formal titles during official court business as either my Queen or my lady but behind closed doors she was always just Gwen. _

Merlin was so lost in the memory that he hadn't realised the Oath of Allegiance was finished and everyone else had lowered their hands. He quickly did the same. He really was so rusty at remembering how to fit in.

Feeling eyes watching him, he glanced in that direction. His eyes met with those of a pretty young woman, her light brown hair tied back in a bun and those eyes ... those eyes, still holding the same kindness as they always had.

_Queen Guinevere _ ... Gwen? His Gwen?

Merlin froze, his eyes widening.

She smiled, so sweetly causing his heart to constrict.

Gwen was here?

Despite the pounding of his heart he smiled back at her, dazed and confused.

What was she doing here?

She was joining the Army ... and on the same day as him. It couldn't just be irony. It had to be fate.

A slow bemused smile crossed Merlin's face and he shook his head in disbelief.

* * *

It didn't surprise him that she sought him out once the swearing in and official Oath of Allegiance was over with the last instruction being that _all new recruits would need to be assembled at the Pirbright Army Training Centre at 0700 hours for their initial introduction to phase 1 basic training._

She had the same shy hesitant smile on her face just like when he'd first met her, in that other lifetime, with his head in the stocks, having rotten vegetables thrown at him.

He was standing near the water fountain, and marvelling at how water came at such easy disposal now. He sipped the cup. It was cold too.

"I noticed you were late," she spoke and he glanced at her, a hint of colour in his cheeks.

"Don't worry about it, I'm sure no one else noticed," she quickly added.

"Not half," he laughed "every eye on the room was on me."

She smiled. "I'm Gwen by the way," she said holding out a hand to him.

Of course she was Gwen, Merlin mused. He shook her hand.

"I'm Mer ..." he quickly pulled himself up suddenly remembering he no longer went by that name "I'm Emmett."

A puzzled frown crossed her face. "Really?"

He could feel a smile tug at the corners of his mouth. "Yeah really, why?"

"Just you don't look like an Emmett."

"I don't."

She shook her head. "Not that you hear that name very often these days, it's so dated and especially someone as young as you," she prattled off and then shoving a hand over her mouth, looking somewhat mortified "I mean not that there is anything wrong with that name, it's a great name," she quickly continued.

Merlin's smile widened. She hadn't changed a bit.

"Well my mother was ..." he paused for a moment "a bit different."

"She's not here?"

The smile left his face.

"No," he shook his head "she died a long time ago."

"I'm sorry," Gwen murmured, a sympathetic look crossing her face. "My mum died when I was really young as well."

"You here alone too?" he asked, his eyes drinking in the sight of her kind face and soft smile after so many _many_ years feeling a hint of sadness that she really no longer remembered him.

_It's me Gwen, its Merlin._

"Yes," she sighed "my brother is the Army too, he's at Camp Bastion, otherwise he would be here and my father," her voice broke off there and her eyes darted away from his "my father died not long ago."

Merlin didn't know what to say so he said the only thing he could think of.

"Then you and I should get some lunch and celebrate our last day in the real world together, seeing as we're alone."

Her face broke into a wide grin.

"That sounds like a great idea."

He smiled back. "Know of a nice but cheap place to eat?" he quickly asked "I'm not from London."

"Yeah I know all about the best cheap places to eat," she grinned in return "it's about all I can afford too."

How was it that he liked her so much and so instantly? That they struck a chord with each other as quickly and easily as they had done over a thousand years ago.

* * *

They walked down the street. It was a warm summer's day and Merlin felt ridiculously happy.

"So tell Emmett what dangerous military jobs are you going to be doing?" Gwen asked, giving him a sideways glance.

"A medic, I'm hoping to become a Combat Team Medic."

Gwen stopped in her tracks and Merlin turned to look at her, noting the incredulous look on her face.

"So am I," she exclaimed, then shaking her head "what a coincidence."

Or fate, Merlin mused.

She suddenly grinned up at him and weaved her arm through his.

"Well seeing as we are going to be doing the hard slog together that makes you my new best friend."

He smiled down at her grinning face, the spark twinkling in her eyes. It had been a long time since he last saw it_ too long. _He couldn't even begin to describe the sudden warmth spreading through his whole being.

Gwen was back.

Everything would be okay.

* * *

**A/N: So there it is. Please leave a review and let me know if you like the direction this story is taking.**


	5. Chapter 5

**A./N: In my attempts to re-edit earlier chapters I screwed this one up and for a day it wasn't there at all. Fingers crossed it's all good again now.**

* * *

_**CHAPTER FOUR.**_

* * *

"Well, here we are," Gwen gushed, barely containing her enthusiasm and squeezing Emmett's hand.

She glanced at him. Emmett looked worried but them Emmett always looked worried.

"It won't be that bad," she added, giving his shoulder a nudge.

He didn't look convinced.

"14 weeks of being yelled out, not to mention all those hours of drill and when we're not doing drill then we'll be cleaning out the latrines and when not doing that running ridiculous miles with hills in boots with back packs and learning how to shoot at targets and crawling through mud on our bellies hoping that the Corporal is not going to single you out and give you a hard time and make you look like a total idiot in front of everyone else."

Gwen frowned, amazed he could rattle off so much in the one given sentence.

"Why did you join then?" she enquired out of curiosity.

He tilted his head to one side, a thoughtful look crossing his face. "I don't know, maybe because it's a means to an end."

There were times Gwen just didn't understand him.

"Well just think how fit you will be when it's over," she said, humouring him, glancing at his lanky frame "you might even come out with some muscles."

He gave her a wry look. "Thanks Gwen."

"Not that I meant that in a bad way, there is nothing wrong with being skinny, if you're a girl that is," she broke off there and bit down on her lip.

She really was making this worse as usual but Emmett simply gave an amused huff.

"I'm stronger than I look."

She smiled. "Of course you are and I'm going to have the hottest figure when this over."

Emmett rolled his eyes. "Why does that matter?"

He really was different, Gwen mused. Only half listening to him mumbling something about society today being too obsessed with beauty and what does it matter what people look like and since when did the world become so shallow and vain.

He really was an odd sort.

"Emmett you sometimes sound like you've lived for a hundred years."

"Try a thousand," he muttered under his breath.

She looked back at him, laughing a little. He really was eccentric but in a whimsical kind hearted way.

"Better not tell anyone then," she whispered conspiratorially to him "you don't want to stick out like a sore thumb."

His eyes met with eyes, a smile crossing his face. "I probably already do."

Yes, well, he had a point. And as if on cue they were approached by a Sergeant looking smart in his uniform and stern at the same time.

He stopped in front of them, took one look at Emmett a scowl crossing his face.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

"Ah I'm um, soon to be Private Alston."

"You are joining the Army?"

Gwen tried not to smile at the disbelief on the Sergeants face.

"Yes Sir," Emmett hurriedly returned.

The Sergeant's eyes narrowed. "Don't call me Sir," he snapped with disdain "I happen to work for a living."

"He's not an officer," Gwen quickly whispered in Emmett's ear.

The sergeant looked at Emmett critically as if sizing him up, his eyes resting on his hair.

"Hmm maybe you will look more like a soldier once we're done with you."

Emmett went a bit pale and Gwen felt sorry for him.

"Starting with that hair, you look like a girl Private," he sneered "go straight to the barber's now and do something about it," he continued "follow that corridor" he pointed "take the third turn on your right."

Emmett gave Gwen a parting _told you they yelled a lot _look before scurrying off down the corridor.

The Sergeant nodded at her and moved on. Suddenly Gwen felt bereft of Emmett's company and very much alone.

Odd how she had only met Emmett yesterday but it seemed like she had known him forever and so taken she had been by his warm disposition and quirky character that she had invited him home. And she hadn't been sorry. It was the most fun night she had had in a while and he made the loneliness of her house, now so empty without her dad and brother in it, dissipate. Of course that then led to her suggesting he might as well stay the night rather than pay for a hotel room and he could sleep in her brother's room. She had been surprised by his few meagre possessions. He literally only owned the clothes on his back except for a duffle bag which Gwen assumed had a few changes of clothes.

She could only wonder where he was from.

"_I've lived in so many different places that I can't keep track of them all, that's what happens when you are put into foster care,"_ he had told her_. _And he'd seemed so reluctant discussing his earlier years that Gwen didn't push it any further and talked about herself because, well, Emmett was a good listener. And he seemed to want to know everything.

Gwen was pleasantly surprised when waking up and stumbling into the kitchen the following morning to find that Emmett had already cooked breakfast for the both of them and had the table set out neatly.  
_"Well that's settled then," she told him as they sat down at the table to eat "when not on base you are going to live here with me."_

_She grinned at his surprised expression, already guessing that Emmett had no family and nowhere to live and he shouldn't be alone._

That first day flew by in a blur. Everything was so alien and different. Gwen was kitted out and had to fill out what felt like a hundred forms. Once she was issued with sheets, blankets and a pillow she was led with her so called platoon to their living quarters.

It was one large room with a row of bunk beds and Gwen's heart sank. There would no privacy here. She found a bunk bed closest to the window and put her things down on the bottom bunk. She couldn't help thinking about Emmett and how he was getting along, finding it hard to picture him in a place like this.

"You have one hour to get yourselves sorted and then you all need to file at the front of the barracks in formation, anyone who is late will be suitably punished," bellowed a Corporal.

Emmett was right, Gwen mused the higher ranking soldiers really did yell a lot.

A solid built girl, with short fair hair and a friendly face put her things on the top bunk.

"You don't mind if I sleep here?" she asked.

Gwen shook her head.

"I'm Sally by the way," she introduced and Gwen found her hand caught up in Sally's warm handshake.

"I'm Gwen," she smiled back.

"Gwen," Sally smiled in return "is that short for anything?"

"No, my mum wasn't very original I'm afraid."

Gwen glanced at the cohort of girls she was going to be living with for the next 14 weeks. Her eyes rested on one very beautiful looking girl, who seemed oddly out of place. She held herself in such a haughty way that Gwen was intrigued.

"Who is that?" she asked Sally as she tucked in the corners of the bed sheet.

"Haven't you heard?" Sally began.

Gwen shook her head. "No."

"That is Morgana Pendragon, only the daughter of one of England's richest business men."

Gwen straightened up. "You mean Pendragon Industries."

"That's the one."

Gwen's eyes rested on the young woman. What was someone like her doing here?

"She's already acts as if she is better than all of us," Sally whispered in her ear.

But when Gwen's eyes rested on Morgana's face she couldn't help thinking that if anything Morgana looked lost and alone despite the proud way she held her shoulders back and her head high.

It had been a long time since Merlin had been yelled at so many times in the one given day and he couldn't help thinking of Arthur. Yep Arthur would fit right in here, being a soldier in the Army, he mused, yelling at some poor hapless fool to _polish his boots _and _wash and iron _his clothes. When the Sergeant had told him in that disdainful brusque way that _he looked like a girl_ all Merlin could think of was Arthur's words _don't be such a girl Merlin. _He smiled at the memory.

Merlin had finally managed to find a bunk bed in the far corner after numerous _this bunks been taken _retorts as if he had leprosy. He dumped his stuff on to the bed, pulling out what would be his uniform for the next 14 weeks. He held the shirt out in front of him, frowning at it. _What was he doing here? _He'd already asked himself that a hundred times this morning. How was he going to meet Arthur as it were? Arthur wasn't even here. Sure he was in the Army but as an officer and how would their paths cross? But one thing Merlin had learnt in all his time on earth was that he no longer intervened with fate. He'd done that once before, meddling with fate, stressing over every little thing as if he could change it somehow. In reality he was better off sitting back and letting the cards fall where they may. And that's what he was doing now because whatever may happen was going to happen and he was just going to go with the flow.

"Excuse me," spoke a timid voice, startling Merlin out of his thoughts.

He spun around coming face to face with a skinny, dorky little kid that was possibly even younger than him.

"You mind if I have the top bunk?"

Merlin could see by the embarrassment on the boy's face that he'd been given the same treatment he had suffered a moment ago. No one else wanted to share a bunk bed with him because he was odd looking. And strangely familiar too.

"Sure," Merlin shrugged "it's all yours."

"Thanks," he mumbled a flash of relief in his brown eyes.

"What's your name by the way?" Merlin enquired.

"George," he replied.

Of course, Merlin mused and could almost laugh at the irony of it. Yep, whatever was going to happen would ... well happen.

Unlike the previous life George was now obsessed with computers. That's all he talked about and much of it was straight over the top of Merlin's head.

He hadn't bothered to keep up with the fast paced technology developments. He didn't even know how to use a mobile phone. He couldn't even get why young people spent their every waking moment using one?

What was the appeal? Merlin was still thinking over this when a Corporal entered the barracks, the

He was short and stocky perhaps early 30's and he had a voice loud enough to raise the ceiling.

He began storming up the passage that separated the bunk beds from left to right, yelling about how slack they all were and that they had a lot to learn. He stopped at one poor young man's bed, inspected it, eyes narrowing.

"You call that making a bed Private!" he yelled and then proceeded to pull the blankets and sheets off the bed, dumping them on the floor.

"Make it again!"

Merlin really felt like he was back in Camelot.

The Corporal continued with his rampage, pulling apart beds that were not made up to standard and kicking at any loose clothing or shoes lying around. Not even Arthur was as much a Prat as this Corporal was and a wicked thought took hold in his mind. Just as the Corporal was about to rip someone else's blankets off their bed he quietly murmured '_oferbraedels ahreos'_.

The Corporal promptly found himself caught up in the blankets and struggling to free himself he fell to the ground in an undignified heap.

Laughter filled the room.

Merlin also laughed, too loudly as the Corporal managed to untangle himself, his furious gaze landing right on him.

Merlin froze and the Corporal, scrambling to his feet, headed his way.

Uh oh.

"You finding that funny Private," he growled, pointing a finger in his face.

"No Corporal," he hastily replied but failing miserable to swipe the smile from his face.

"Really," he drawled "because I'd hate to see what would happen to your face if you actually did smile, it'll probably crack!"

Merlin stopped smiling but he could see the Corporal was now extremely pissed off.

"Get down on the ground and give me 50 push ups," he ordered.

Merlin did as he said.

"Count out loud!" the Corporal bellowed.

"One," Merlin grimaced, and lowered himself down again "two" pushing himself up again "three."

He felt the Corporal shove a boot in his back, pushing him flat to the ground.

"What the hell do you call that Private?"

Merlin didn't get a chance to answer.

"Maybe you would like to go and find a bed in the girl's quarters," he sneered.

Sniggers filled the room.

Merlin was beginning to think that wasn't a bad idea.

The Corporal removed his boot from his back.

"Continue with your pathetic push ups Private and don't forget to count out loud."

The Corporal moved on and Merlin pushed himself up with his hands, glaring at his receding back.

"Four."

By the time the 50 push ups were finished he lay on the ground unable to move.

"Tough luck," George murmured "doesn't pay to anger Corporal Jones."

No shit, Merlin would have replied if he could.

_Day Two_

He hadn't seen Gwen yet. George was prattling on about some latest software program that went straight over the top of Merlin's head.

Corporal Jones, that Merlin had now nicknamed _Dollop Head_ and that was actually being too kind but until he could think of something more fitting it would have to do. Corporal Dollop Head had seemed to take a personal liking to him, reaming him out whenever he had the chance, which was pretty much every five minutes.

"What are we lining up for?" Merlin asked George.

"Immunization time," George replied.

Merlin froze. "What."

"You know, they shove a needle in your arm, it hurts for a millisecond and your arm aches for a day and that's about it."  
"Needles ..."

"What you never had one before?" George scoffed giving him a funny look.

Actually, no, he hadn't and he didn't like the thought of it.

When it came to his turn, Merlin took one look at the needle and promptly fainted. After he came around they still shoved the needle in his arm with the brusque words _you need to toughen up Private_.

He stumbled out of the door, clutching his arm, pale and still shaken. The sunlight burned his eyes. It would have to be a sunny day when every other day had been cloudy, Merlin silently moaned.

His eyes rested on Gwen. She was a sight for sore eyes.

"Emmett!" she exclaimed happily and next thing he knew she was hugging him.

Oh this was terrific. He could only imagine how much worse the teasing was going to get now.

"Ow! My arm Gwen."

She pulled back apologetically and he noted the warmth in her eyes and suddenly everything didn't seem quite so bad.

"Did you have a needle?" she asked.

"Yes," he returned, sounding like some petulant child "I hate needles."

She smiled, her eyes resting on his hair, his ears and then she bit down on her lip.

"What?" he frowned, bringing a self conscious hand up to the back of his neck?

"Oh dear," she began, raising a hand and ruffling what was left of his hair, "your poor hair, it's so short it makes your ears stick out."

Could Gwen possibly get any blunter? "Thanks Gwen," he muttered somewhat chagrined.

"Not that that's a bad thing," she quickly added, a hint of colour flashing in her cheeks.

"It's sort of cute actually," she continued with a smile that faded to a look of puzzlement.

Her eyes lingered on his face, a hint of confusion there.

"It's funny but you remind me of someone," she slowly murmured.

Merlin's heart rate suddenly increased. Of course he did _it's me Gwen, its Merlin._

She shook her head, gave a half laugh "lack of sleep I think."

Merlin inwardly sighed. Would anyone remember him?

"I better go, don't want to get in trouble on just the second day."

Yeah pity he hadn't thought of that _**yesterday**_.

She gave him a quick wave and ran off. Merlin stood there like a dumb fool, staring after her.

"That your girlfriend Dumbo?" Private Tom jeered in passing "didn't think you were capable of attracting someone that hot."

The nickname _Dumbo_ was fast sticking with everyone else in his platoon.

"Nice ass," Tom continued.

Merlin felt like smacking him out. _You don't look at her ass, who the hell do you think you are? She's the Queen you should be bowing down before her_. Merlin shook his head to clear it, that's right he dryly mused, wrong time, wrong era, wrong place.

"I'm going to die," Gwen moaned through gasps of air as they ran up the same concrete hill for the fourth time.

Merlin was in total agreement.

"C'mon Gwen, just think of that hot figure you'll have at the end," he cheekily quipped, grabbing her arm and pulling her along.

"Right now I couldn't care less," she panted "what had I been thinking Emmett, joining the bloody Army, what person in their right mind does that?"

"Its fate," Merlin grunted. His lungs felt on fire "fate's a bitch." He should know.

Morgana casually ran past them, looking perfectly elegant in her Army greens, not a hair out of place, as if she was taking a casual stroll.

"Now there's a Bitch," Gwen muttered under her breath.

"I thought you were friends?" Merlin panted beside her.

"We are, just that she's so bloody good at everything."

They continued to trudge up the hill.

"Hey Dumbo, this isn't the time for chatting up your girlfriend," Tom jeered in passing.

Merlin clenched his teeth.

"Dumbo?" Gwen began and he didn't miss the amusement in her voice.

"Don't say it Gwen," he muttered _stupid Walt Disney film._ Who the hell produced an animated film about an elephant of all things that just happened to have big ears?

_Eight weeks have passed _Merlin wrote in his journal _eight weeks of pure hell and torture and I thought it was bad being Arthur's servant._

He smirked at the thought. _Lots of similarities, many hours polishing boots, and the ironing, that never stops and cleaning everything till its spick and span. They are so strict with it. What difference does it make and how is that supposed to make anyone a better soldier? Corporal Jones is a sadist. There is no being friends with him, unlike Arthur. Arthur was my friend even though I was a servant._

Merlin stopped writing as a sense of nostalgia swept over him. How was Arthur getting along?

He glanced at Gwen and Morgana who sat on the sofa opposite to him. They were in deep conversation. Did Morgana possess any magic? He could see no signs of it. In this lifetime she was just like any other young woman.

_It's strange being with these people again and none of them remembering who they once were, Gwen, Morgana and George. _

How many more people from the Camelot days would resurface in his life? Would any of them remember or was he all alone? It made him sad in a way he couldn't explain. It's probably just as well Morgana doesn't remember. She was now the sweet lovely woman he had first met in his early days at Camelot and he hoped it stayed that way.

He returned his attention to the journal _I'm the last of my kind._

"Don't tell me you have a drawing fetish too Emmett," Morgana spoke from the other side of the room.

He looked up startled.

"What ... no," he began, then curiosity getting the better of him "who has a drawing fetish?"

"My brother Arthur."

Arthur, really, Arthur liked to draw?

"He calls it doodling, says it passes the time in boring board meetings."

The timer from the microwave went off.

"That'll be the nachos," Gwen said, jumping up from the couch.

"What does he like to draw?" Merlin asked, still trying to picture Arthur sitting in a board meeting and doodling on a pad.

"Lots of different things," Morgana shrugged and then a soft reflective smile crossed her face "though he does often draw sketches of this boy, a boy summoning a dragon from a fire."

Merlin froze. His mouth went dry. Was Morgana joshing with him now? But judging from the whimsical look in her eyes she couldn't be.

"H-How does the boy summon the dragon?" he managed to ask, his heart thudding in his chest.

Morgana smiled. "Magic."

Sudden shock hit Merlin deep in his gut. Arthur drew him ... with magic ... why? _Because it was one of his last memories _when Merlin truly revealed who he was but Arthur couldn't remember that, could he? Maybe he remembered on a subconscious level?

"D-Does he say who the boy is?" Merlin stammered.

He swallowed the lump forming in his throat.

Morgana shook her head. "No, he said he didn't know who the boy was, which I thought odd because why draw something or someone you don't know and ..." Morgana's words trailed off there "are you alright Emmett, you look like you've just seen a ghost."

Merlin pulled himself up with a start. "I'm fine."

Morgana didn't look convinced and Merlin was saved from having to say anything more when Gwen returned with a big plate of nachos, placing it on the coffee table directly in front of him.

Merlin unfolded his legs, closing the note pad.

"What's that for?" he asked, glad for the distraction.

"Morgana and I have decided that you needed fattening up," Gwen confessed, sitting down next to him.

"I eat," he protested "all the time."

Morgana came and joined them, and Merlin found himself sitting in between the two girls.

"I'm just naturally skinny."

Gwen putted his knee. "Just eat up Emmett and indulge us."

"Alright," he muttered, leaning forward and picking up a corn chip that oozed with cheese and sour cream. He frowned at it before glancing at Morgana and Gwen's eager faces.

He couldn't disappoint them and shoved the corn chip in his mouth.

Morgana grinned and reaching for the plate she picked it up and promptly put it on his lap.

"Now you have to eat all of that," Gwen grinned and before he had a chance to protest Gwen had picked up a corn chip and shoved it in his mouth.

Morgana finding it hiliarious followed suite and Merlin found himself suddenly being hand fed by the both of them. They fell into fits of giggles as sour cream dribbled down his chin and he started laughing, spitting bits of corn chip.

"This, this is disgusting."

"Oh c'mon Emmett you're not even half way through it," Gwen laughed, picking up a handful of corn chips and smearing it over his lips.

"Right that does it," he mocked growled and before either girl's had a chance to react, he grabbed two handfuls of corn chips, smearing in both of their faces. The girls shrieked, tried to make a hasty escape and the plate of nachos ended up on the floor.

"Opps," Gwen giggled.

"Well, well, if it isn't the happy trio," a man jeered and Merlin's heart sank.

He glanced up at Tom and his merry band on tormentors. He didn't miss the teasing glint in his eye.

"It's now been confirmed Dumbo that you really are officially a girl."

Morgana jumped to her feet, facing Tom and glaring.

"How dare you," she hissed "give me Emmett any day over you're insufferable egotism."

Merlin wiped the corn chips from his lips silently admiring Morgana. One didn't want to mess with her he mused.

"You call yourself a man," Morgana jeered "you're pathetic."

Tom merely raised an eyebrow at Morgana.

"Just because you have a rich daddy doesn't give you the right to insult me," he returned.

"My rich daddy has nothing to do with this, I can see you for what you are and it's really so tragically sad," she mocked "you're just a boy pretending to be a man without even knowing what one is."

Gwen just sat there with her mouth hanging open. Merlin was still grinning. Morgana always did have a way with words.

Tom roughly grabbed her by the wrist and the smile left Merlin's face. He jumped up from the couch suddenly alarmed.

"You don't touch her," he threatened.

Tom just laughed. "What is a pint size weakling like you going to do about it?"

Merlin clenched his fist. He could feel his magic swirling and sought to suppress it.

"Let her go." _If you value your life. _

"Of course," Tom began "you're right Emmett, I don't know what I was thinking." He let go off Morgana's wrist and before Merlin could respond Tom punched him square in the face, sending him staggering backwards.

"Emmett!" Gwen gasped, rushing to his side.

Much to his surprise just as Tom was about to land another blow, Morgana had punched him in the nose. Blood spurted out and Tom covered his nose with his hands, looking shell shocked.

"You broke my nose!" He glared at her.

She grabbed him by the scruff of his neck. "You're just lucky I don't have my sword otherwise I would have run you through."

"I never knew she was this fierce," Gwen whispered in his ear.

Merlin did, his face ached but he still couldn't help the stupid grin crossing it. Morgana protecting him _just like it once had been _and somehow the balance of what she had ended up becoming had somewhat been restored.

"What is going on here!" a voice bellowed from the doorway.

Morgana stepped back and Merlin's eyes rested on Corporal Jones.

He silently groaned.

"It was me Corporal," he said, breaking away from Gwen's hold.

"I punched Tom, we got in a fight."

The Corporal's eyes rested on him and narrowed.

"You punched another fellow soldier?"

Merlin nodded.

"No Merlin," Morgana began and turned to face the Corporal "I hit him."

But Merlin wasn't about to let Morgana take the blame. He knew the serious repercussions for hitting another soldier and it was severe.

"She's just trying to protect me Corporal," he interjected "it was me."

He shot a _please be silent _look at Morgana before the Corporal rounded on him.

"Do you know the seriousness of punching another soldier? We don't tolerate such behaviour."

Merlin nodded. He was in the shit now.

"Corporal," Tom spoke up "it's not all his fault."

Merlin was stunned for a moment. Tom standing up for him?

"I started it, I hit Emmett first and he only hit back in self defence."

Merlin just about fell over from shock. Who would have thought Tom could actually be half decent.

"We just had a misunderstanding," Tom continued.

Corporal Jones glanced from Merlin to Tom, shaking his head and looking angry.

"Both of you come with me."

Merlin glanced over his shoulder at Gwen and Morgana as he left the room. They both stood there looking miserable. He forced a brief smile to his lips.

"It'll be fine," he whispered, though he doubted it.

Corporal Jones hated him and now he had a just reason for punishing him or even worse having him kicked out of the Army. He walked in silence alongside Tom and he still couldn't believe that Tom had been honest at the end.

"Why did you tell him the truth?" he murmured, glancing at the young man, whose nose was already beginning to swell.

"Why did you take the blame for Morgana?"

"Because she's my friend and she didn't deserve to be punished for defending me."

Tom went silent for a long while before sighing "neither do you deserve taking the rap for someone else's actions."

Corporal Jones ranted and raved at the two of them for what seemed like hours. Merlin had to wonder how he did it. He felt exhausted just watching him. At least the Corporal wouldn't be kicking either of them out of the Army, much to his relief but they would be spending every evening for the next week digging trenches and any other hideous chore that the Corporal would no doubt find for them.

It meant that Merlin saw a lot of Tom. Every evening from seven to eleven at night they would be digging out those bloody trenches side by side. Through it all, they even became friends. The last person Merlin thought he'd ever become friends with.

"Seriously I feel sorry for you Emmett having to share a bunk bed with George," Tom talked, dumping another shovel of sand behind him.

"It's not that bad," Merlin returned.

"The guy never shuts up about computers, it drives me crazy."

Merlin stopped shovelling. "Yeah I just tune him out after a while," he grinned "I don't think he even notices."

Tom smiled and shook his head before his eyes rested on someone. Merlin looked at him. Tom merely pointed over his right shoulder and Merlin spun around.

Morgana stood there, looking apprehensive. Merlin's eyes scanned the area to make sure no one else was around before jumping out of the trench and walking up to her.

"Morgana," he spoke "what are you doing here, you could get in trouble."

She was ringing her hands together. "I haven't had the chance to see you Emmett, Gwen and I have been worried."

Her eyes met with his.

"I'm alright, turned out alright in the end."

They stood there for a moment regarding each other and he couldn't even begin to read her expression. She raised a hand, much to his surprise and gently touched the bruise on his cheek.

"Some shiner," she murmured.

"Not as bad as Tom," Merlin smiled, gesturing with his thumb in Tom's direction.

Morgana's eyes narrowed.

"He really isn't that bad of a person you know," he told her "and if he hadn't stood up for me and told the truth I doubt I'd still be here."

"So he should," Morgana huffed "he started it all and now you are stuck digging trenches for a week, that's hardly fair."

"Hey I might even build up some muscles yet," he grinned, flexing his right arm.

A slow smile crossed Morgana's face. She rested a hand on his arm.

"Thank you Emmett, for taking the rap for me, that was ... that was very noble of you."

Much to his surprise she leaned in towards him and softly pressed her lips to his cheek. Merlin stood there rooted to the spot like some dumbstruck fool. Morgana drew back and her eyes met with his. She smiled sweetly, run a thumb over the bruise on his cheek yet again.

"There's something different about you Emmett, something special," she murmured and with that she slowly turned and walked away.

Merlin still stood there in the same spot, staring after her. Morgana kissed him. Morgana said he was special. He swallowed and a myriad of emotions swamped him.

_Please never change Morgana; always remain this sweet loyal person that you used to be._

Merlin couldn't believe the day had finally arrived. His last day doing Phase 1 training and he'd lived to tell the tale. He felt smart in his uniform during the _Passing out Parade_, like he was part of something infinitely bigger. Though he had no idea what the future would bring or where it would lead him but suddenly the world seemed brighter. One day his and Arthur's paths would cross again, they were two sides of the same coin after all. It was a day Merlin both longed and dreaded. He longed to see Arthur again but dreaded the way Arthur would look at him as if he was a _stranger_.

If Merlin thought he was going to quietly sneak away then he was wrong. Gwen and Morgana managed to find him, grabbing either side of his arms.

"Where do you think you're going Emmett," Gwen exclaimed, grinning up at him "you are staying with me during the two week break and that is final."

There was no point arguing with her, not that Merlin wanted to. He'd grown far too attached to Gwen and even Morgana over these last 14 weeks. He had a sudden flash of memory _Gwen and Morgana insisting they were coming with him to Ealdor_ and even then it had been pointless to argue with them.

"But first I am shouting the two of you to the finest restaurant in London," Morgana announced and put up a hand "and no protesting in case you two haven't realised I'm filthy rich and I love nothing better than spending daddy's money."

Gwen still didn't look sure and Merlin smiled.

"Can't argue with that."

Morgana gave him a thankful grin.

"We are going to celebrate and I'm going to enjoy my last day with my two best friends."

Everyone was happy and chirpy during the meal but when it came to an end and Morgana had to catch a taxi in time before her plane flight home left a sadness stole over the three of them.

They stood outside in the cold air, near the taxi stand. Morgana finally turned to face them.

"This is where we part ways," Morgana sighed, "I'll be going to the 11th Signal Regiment in Dorset and you guys get to stay together, I'm jealous."

Gwen hugged her. "Don't worry you'll make new friends."

"It won't be the same."

Gwen stood back and gazed up at her.

"You know we will always stay in contact."

"I know," Morgana replied with a small smile "but it still won't be the same."

She glanced at Merlin and he drew her into his arms.

"Goodbye Morgana, take care," he murmured in her hair.

"You too Emmett."

He gazed into her eyes, realising just how alone Morgana was, a girl growing up in a mansion with too many expectations placed at her feet, wanting to be part of things but never knowing really how to be. He understood that. Then suddenly realising he had been staring at her for far too long he quickly averted his eyes.

Morgana turned to face Gwen.

"You promised," she said giving Gwen a meaningful look and then with a wave she hurried to the waiting taxi.

They watched her climb into the taxi.

Merlin gave Gwen a sideways glance.

"What did you promise her?"

"That I would go and stay at her house for a couple of days during the two week break."

"What," Merlin exclaimed "Uther Pendragon's house?"

Gwen sighed. "I couldn't say no, she was literally begging me to come."

Merlin went silent. Gwen would meet Arthur. He recalled Morgana saying that Arthur would be home at the same time as her.

"Not that I really want to," Gwen murmured "I mean I want to see Morgana but the thought of staying in that big mansion with the richest and most important business man in England is a bit daunting."

And then there was Arthur. Gwen would be able to fill him on all the gossip, what Arthur was like, what he was doing. He could have asked Morgana these things but then that would make Morgana suspicious about why he wanted to know so much about his brother.

"You should go, you'll be fine Gwen."

Gwen flashed him a smile. "Thank you Emmett, I honestly don't know what I would do without you."

How many times had she told him that before, Merlin inwardly sighed, without even remembering doing so.

He shivered in the cold breeze. Would anyone remember him?

He felt Gwen's hand slip into his.

"C'mon lets go home."


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Sorry this chapter is also ridiculously long! I had initially put the last scene into the next chapter as a result but then I decided it really needed to stay at the end of this chapter as it alludes nicely to the next chapter. The problem with long chapters is editing them! No matter how many times I read through it (which is a lot!) I always seem to miss something.**

**Thanks for all the lovely reviews so far! They are very much appreciated. **

**Here is the next chapter. Enjoy.**

* * *

_**Chapter Five. The Pendragon Household**_

* * *

It felt weird being back home, Arthur mused as he lay back on his comfortable double size luxurious bed. A big difference from the hard mattress he'd spent the last 44 weeks sleeping on at the Royal Military College. Arthur sighed. Now this was nice. This is just what he needed, plenty of time for sleep and relaxation, two things that had been sadly lacking these last ten months.

He was going to enjoy these next two weeks.

"Arthur!" bellowed his father.

And maybe not, Arthur silently muttered. He yanked his hands through his hair, tugging on the short blunt ends.

The door to his bedroom opened and he sat up.

Naturally his father stood there and Arthur quickly scrambled to his feet.

"Father," he began.

He hadn't seen him yet. His father being at work when he'd arrived home. For which Arthur had been thankful because it gave him some time to readjust to being home. Not to mention he and his father had not parted on the best of terms.

"Arthur, you're home."

Uther walked up to him, his eyes travelling over his face and body before resting on his face again.

"You look well, fitter."

That's because he was no longer stuck behind a desk studying, or suffering through long boring board meetings.

"I am," he nodded.

His father's hand came to rest on his shoulder. His eyes searched his deeply as if looking for something Arthur could only guess at.

"I have missed you," his father admitted.

"And I you father," he returned, though he hadn't, not really, what had there been to miss?

"Have they treated you well?"

"I'm not royalty father. Everyone gets treated equally irrespective of who you are."

His father didn't look happy about that.

"But yes, as an officer you get treated well enough," he hurriedly added.

The last thing he needed was his father to write some damn letter of complaint making him seem more important than everyone else when he wasn't. It was bad enough being nick named _princess _which he had Gwaine to thank for and unfortunately the nick name had stuck. Arthur could only imaging how much worse the teasing would become if his father began to make complaints.

"It's all about discipline in the Army," he continued "and strength of character."

His father seemed pleased by those words as Arthur knew he would be. If nothing else, he always knew the right thing to say to placate his father.

"Two things that every young man should possess," Uther nodded in approval.

Arthur managed a smile. Uther patted his back before turning away, stopping in the doorway.

"Morgana's flight arrives at the airport this afternoon," he spoke over his shoulder "I think it would be good of you to pick her up, it'll give the two of you time to compare your experiences," he continued.

But Arthur knew the only reason that his father wouldn't pick up Morgana was because he didn't want to be alone with her.

"Though I'm sure hers will not be as good as yours considering the lowly status of her position, that of a non-commissioned officer."

Arthur gritted his teeth and bit back the retort he wanted to give _all positions within the Army are of equal importance._

"I look forward to seeing her."

And he did. Though no doubt she would be teasing him for the whole two week break but at least he wouldn't have to hear the word _princess _during that time. Unless Gwaine lived up to his threat and came to visit him, which was possible.

* * *

Morgana was very happy to see him. Arthur was pleasantly surprised by her warm embrace. She ruffled his hair, poked fun at him saying _that his nose appeared bigger because of it _before he informed her that most of the other women doing officer training _found him hot. _

Screwing up her nose she promptly replied _I don't see how._

She then chatted about her 14 weeks at basic training and it was _Gwen_ this and _Gwen _that and sometimes _Emmett _this and _Emmett that. _And what sort of name was Emmett anyway? Who named their kid Emmett?

"I couldn't have hoped for two better friends," she enthused.

Arthur was kind of surprised she actually managed to get so close to two other people, she generally held herself aloof, least within their social circle.

"That's because they are so stuck up," she informed when he asked her why "Gwen and Emmett are real."

"Like Gwaine," he quipped giving her a sideways glance as he drove.

Morgana gave him a pointed look.

"Nothing like Gwaine and don't tell me he is going to be staying with us?"

Arthur shrugged. "It's Gwaine, who knows?"

* * *

"I think this has been a good experience for you Arthur. It'll make you disciplined and stronger," his father sprouted off at the dinner table.

Morgana merely rolled her eyes as she buttered her dinner roll.

"After your four years of military service is over you should be a fine man Arthur, the sort of man fit to take over the Pendragon Industries."

Arthur stopped chewing. What is to say that after his four years was over that he wouldn't stay in the Army. If he liked it enough but he wasn't about to tell his father that and he swallowed.

"Just don't play hero, that's what non-officers are for," his father continued.

Arthur hadn't missed Morgana's outraged hiss.

Uther gave her a dismissive wave.

"I know I don't have to worry about you Morgana, they don't send women to the front lines."

Arthur noticed the way Morgana glared at their father.

"Remember who you are son and the importance of it, you are not just any general riff raff. You are heir to the most powerful industry in all of Britain."

As if he could forget.

"Oh by the way," Morgana piped up "I'm having a friend come to stay for a couple of nights."

"Someone you met during training?"

"Yes, her name is Gwen."

"That's a common name," Uther scoffed.

Morgana's eyes narrowed.

"I take it she is a non-officer too?"

"Yes but she is a sweet girl."

Arthur frowned at the small smile twitching at the corners of Morgana's mouth. What was with the smile? What was Morgana up to now?

"You should like her Arthur," Morgana continued, taking a bite of her roll.

"I'm sure Arthur has lots of fine young women at the training Academy to catch his fancy," their father interjected.

He wanted to ignore what he knew his father was implying _you do not mix with young women beneath your social standing._

"Plenty," Arthur agreed, shoving a forkful of roast beef in his mouth, ignoring Morgana glare.

* * *

"Really you are just like a robot Arthur," she jeered later that night as they lounged back in the comfortable three seat sofa in the living room.

"Yes father, no father, three bags full father," she continued, flicking the television on with the remote.

"Give it a break Morgana," he sighed, running a hand through his hair "I only do that because I don't want to get in a conversation with him."

"What, you not allowed to think for yourself?"

He didn't bother to answer.

* * *

Arthur was sitting at the dining room table finishing his lunch. Uther, on the rare occasion was home, and home far more than Arthur liked. It had come to Arthur's sinking realization that his father was home more often because he wanted to spend time with him.

Terrific.

The doorbell chimed just as Arthur was about to formulate some lame excuse as to why he couldn't attend the board meeting tomorrow.

"Can you go answer it Arthur?" his father ordered.

"Where's the housemaid?" he complained in protest.

It wasn't his job to answer the front door.

"She's off sick today."

Sighing Arthur left the dining room, walked down the corridor, across the marbled floor of the foyer and pulled the front door open.

He glanced at the young woman standing there an anxious smile hovering at the corners of her mouth. He took in her shoulder length brown curly hair, along with her light brown skin and who was she and why was she here, because his father did not have anyone who he considered to be 'black' even if they were only mildly so work for him. Then his eyes fell to the small suitcase perched on the doorstep alongside her and his eyes rested on her face.

"Who are you?" he asked, not thinking and realizing that he actually sounded sort of rude, not that he had meant to.

Her smile faltered for a moment.

"I'm Gwen," she replied "Morgana's friend."

Arthur now recalled Morgana mentioning that Gwen would be coming to stay but she'd never said her friend was ... oh hell.

"Y-You're ..." his voice got stuck in his throat and Gwen's face went sort of stony.

"Black," she finished for him, raising an eyebrow.

Arthur pulled himself up with a start. Oh shit, had he really been about to say that? Not that he had a problem with it even if his father did and now he felt like a dumb idiot.

"I didn't mean ..."

But he got no further as Morgana approached and exclaimed. "Is that you Gwen?"

Arthur hastily stepped back as Morgana swept past him and caught Gwen in a warm embrace.

"I said I would pick you up," Morgana exclaimed.

"The flight was early and I didn't want to put you out so I caught a taxi."

Arthur watched as Morgana stepped back to survey her friend. He made a similar appraisal himself.

So this was Gwen. He had heard so much about her over the past week. She really wasn't what he had imagined. Maybe he'd imagined her to be haughty like Morgana, or elegant even ... just not this, not this simple plain girl before him.

"You still should have rung me," she chided "I'll make sure father reimburses you."

_Hardly _and Arthur could really see that going down well _in case you haven't realized Morgana but father has a thing about black people, even if they are just marginally so _or maybe she did?

Just what was Morgana up to now? His eyes narrowed.

"No please don't," Gwen quickly injected and Arthur's eyes rested on her sincere expression.

It tugged at something deep in the recesses of his mind that he couldn't even begin to fathom.

"Fair enough," Morgana smiled and turned to look at him.

"I see you have met my brother Arthur," she continued.

Gwen nodded and Arthur didn't miss the coolness in her gaze. It was obvious she had already formed some sort of opinion about him and it wasn't favorable. Not that he cared.

"Yeah we've met," he muttered "I'll leave you two alone."

With that he quickly turned and marched out of the foyer, his face burning with a mixture of embarrassment and annoyance. How was he to know that Morgana decided to make friends with a colored girl and not to mention bring her to the house knowing how father felt and putting him in this awkward position?

"Who was that?" his father asked as he stormed past the dining hall.

"Morgana's friend Gwen," he returned in passing.

"Then I should meet her," his father began, rising from his chair.

Arthur stopped in his tracks and turned quickly to address his father.

"I think they want some time alone," he hastily said, and raised an eyebrow "you know what girls are like."

His father nodded. "Of course I'll meet her later, when we all have dinner together."

Arthur took a deep sigh of relief and felt instant anger at Morgana and a swift pang of pity for Gwen. She was in for a rude shock come dinner time and what the hell had Morgana been thinking?

* * *

Gwen had watched Arthur storm down the foyer, disappearing through a doorway and bit down on her lip. Well he was certainly rude!

"What has gotten into Arthur?" Morgana murmured appearing puzzled.

Morgana had talked highly of Arthur but there was nothing that Gwen had seen of him so far to think that there was anything special or nice about Arthur Pendragon.

"It's because I'm black," Gwen blurted out.

Morgana frowned. "What?" Then a sudden realization crossed her face and she glanced back at Gwen looking slightly abashed.

"I probably should have warned you Gwen that my father is a bit racist."

Gwen eyes widened and Morgana had the audacity to look contrite.

"It's just that I was afraid if I told you that you wouldn't have come."

She most certainly wouldn't have if she'd known.

"But Arthur's not like that," Morgana hastily added.

Oh really, Gwen silently fumed, it didn't appear that way to her.

"Well he more or less said something along the lines of _your black." _

Morgana looked shocked for a moment before quickly composing herself.

"You don't need to worry about Arthur and my father I'm sure will soon warm to you once he gets to know you."

Gwen had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Somehow her staying here wasn't going to be a pleasant experience. She shouldn't have listened to Emmett. But that was unfair of her to blame him, Emmett wasn't to know what sort of people the Pendragon's were.

* * *

Arthur waited for the right time he could corner Morgana alone. She was in the kitchen going through the pantry when he seized his moment.

"What were you thinking Morgana by bringing that girl here?" he demanded.

Morgana spun around, a packet of cracker biscuits in her hand.

"What do you mean?" she returned.

"In case you have noticed but well Gwen has colored skin."

Arthur noticed the outraged expression on Morgana's face.

"So!"

* * *

Gwen hadn't meant to eavesdrop. She was about to enter the kitchen to help Morgana when she heard Arthur's voice _in case you have noticed but well Gwen has colored skin _which made her go stock still.

"So what if she does!" Gwen heard Morgana exclaim.

"Father will have a fit." Arthur's reply.

"What I can't make friends with Gwen because she isn't white!" Morgana raged.

"It's not that," Arthur said defensively "just why bring her here?"

Gwen clenched her fists in anger and disbelief.

"Because she is my friend!" Morgana stated "Father will just have to get over it."

"Are you trying to cause strive again Morgana?"

But Gwen had heard enough and quietly moved on, silently fuming. Arthur was obviously just as much as a racist prig as his father was!

* * *

"You still trying to be a daddy's boy," Morgana mocked giving him a simmering smug smile.

Arthur ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

"No, I'm actually thinking of your friend and how she is going to feel when father is so rude to her tonight," Arthur returned.

Morgana went quiet.

"Or hadn't you thought of that Morgana?"

He could see Morgana had and as usual Morgana had plans to upset Uther as she always did and Gwen would be caught in the crossfire and not that he cared about the girl Gwen but still it was hardly fair of Morgana to put her through that just because she hated their father with a passion.

_You're using your friend. _

"Don't be so noble Arthur, it doesn't suit you," Morgana flung in his face before storming out of the kitchen.

* * *

Uther had managed to keep himself in check much to Arthur's surprise. Gwen was undeniably charming and also intelligent. She held herself with such compose that Arthur couldn't help admiring that about her. And whilst his father wasn't downright rude he often dismissed much of what Gwen had to say. Eventually Gwen said very little and he could see the hint of color in her cheeks.

Morgana spent the duration of the meal silently glaring at their father and what was left of the meal lapsed into an awkward silence.

Once Morgana and Gwen had left the dining room Uther let his compose slip.

"How dare Morgana bring a black girl into the house," he fumed "she is so common too."

Arthur wanted to protest, though he hardly knew why. So what if Gwen was what his father termed black though barely. She did in fact have quite a striking complexion with her lightly browned skin and kind brown eyes, framed by those pretty black eyelashes, sensual lips and Arthur pulled himself up with a start. She wasn't what you would term stunningly beautiful yet there was something very striking about her. Not that she was his type but the proud way she held herself. It sort of tugged away at some half forgotten memory he couldn't recall.

* * *

Arthur hadn't slept well. He stumbled out of bed, bleary eyed and bad tempered. He never had been a morning person. He pulled on a pair of tracksuit pants and plain white t-shirt before shuffling barefoot downstairs, to the dining room.

Morgana and Gwen were chatting away happily at the table, which he noticed was bare.

"What a charming sight you make this morning brother," Morgana smirked at his disheveled appearance.

"Where's breakfast?" he demanded, ignoring her comment.

"I'm afraid you'll have to get it yourself."

"What?"

Gwen smirked and his eyes met with hers. Oh so she found it amusing, he silently bristled.

"You don't know how to boil an egg and make toast?" Morgana continued a playful teasing glint in her eyes that was seriously annoying him and the fact that she was right.

He had no idea about cooking, even something as simple as boiling an egg.

"That's what house maids are for," he scoffed and regretted the words soon as they left his mouth.

Gwen gasped an incredulous look crossing her face.

"Are you for real?" she exclaimed

He straightened up, was about to try and explain that it was a slip of the tongue and what he had meant to say was ... well he really didn't know?

"Guess I am," he muttered.

She frowned, obviously her opinion of him had fell even further.

"You can't even butter toast?" she continued, shaking her head in disbelief, her curls dancing around her shoulders, momentarily distracting him _pretty hair._

He pulled himself up with a start. Who cared what she thought. If she already had a bad opinion about him who was he to change it.

"Never needed to," he returned haughtily.

"Well there is a first time for everything isn't there Arthur," Morgana teased "or are you too far above such menial tasks?"

He could feel two sets of eyes upon him and began to squirm uncomfortably.

"I'm sure I can manage a bowl of cereal," he muttered and made a hasty retreat, silently fuming on his way to the kitchen.

He could hear the two girl's giggles following him down the hallway, much to his chagrin. Just who did Gwen think she was, coming into his house, making him feel like he was stupid?

Arthur found a bowl and slammed it onto the bench. Morgana loved nothing more than making him look like a fool in front of everyone; he fumed, grabbing a box of cereal from the pantry.

Still annoyed, he returned to the dining room with bowl of cereal, not paying the slightest bit of attention to Morgana or Gwen.

They were engaged in conversation and didn't even give him a passing glance. He reached for the paper, flicked it open. Picking up a spoonful of cereal he shoved it into his mouth.

He sputtered for a moment, what the hell, it tasted disgusting. Morgana and Gwen glanced at him and he refrained from spitting out the horrible taste of the food. It slowly dawned on him that he'd put salt instead of sugar on his cereal.

He swallowed, lifted up the paper in front of him, appearing engrossed in what he was reading even if he couldn't read a damn word without his glasses. The salt left a horrible taste in his mouth and he pulled a face, knowing neither girl could see him.

His face reddened; how was it that salt looked just like sugar? Fine, he didn't care if he ate breakfast or not. He could go without it.

Squinting hard at the paper Arthur tried to make out the words and at the same time trying to block out the girl's voices but he couldn't help himself and listen he did.

All Gwen and Morgana talked about was Emmett. It was beginning to grate on his nerves and what the hell was so special about this person that he took up so much of their conversation?

He flicked the paper in annoyance and glanced at the two girls frowning.

"This Emmett must be something else," he muttered.

Morgana and Gwen launched into how sweet he was, and such a good friend, brave and blah, blah. How he took the rap for Morgana when Morgana had punched Tom after Tom had punched him. All Arthur could think was _he sounds like an idiot. _But obviously Gwen saw him as a hero. And now he was sorry he'd ever mentioned Emmett.

"Nobody can be that perfect," he scoffed.

"And certainly not you Arthur," Morgana retorted and Gwen hid a smile.

His annoyance increased.

* * *

Dinner at the so called Royal Pendragon house was an ordeal Gwen didn't cherish. Not to mention they all seemed to dress up smartly for it and Gwen didn't own anything that smart or classy.

Morgana offered something of hers to wear but there was just one problem; a height difference. Eventually she fitted into a black skirt and sky blue blouse.

Gwen never wore much in the way of makeup and she wasn't about to start now. She wasn't a people pleaser and wasn't about to become one, despite who the Pendragon's were. She didn't give a toss about the mighty Uther or his arrogant son Arthur.

She talked little at the table. There really was no point in saying anything. Uther would merely dismiss her as nothing more than a simple common girl.

Quite often she found her gaze lingering on Arthur's face, especially his eyes. His eyes reflected a different range of emotions to the words he often muttered from his mouth. It puzzled her. Watching Uther sitting there in all his power and glory, boasting as usual, about how important Arthur was to the Pendragon Industries.

Arthur would nod but she could see by the expression in his eyes that being the heir to a fortune was something that weighed heavily upon his shoulders. Something perhaps he really didn't even want. Though why would that be? He'd have everything at the click of fingers, so much money, any beautiful woman at his beck and call and servants too she mused dryly, remembering his comment from this morning. But too often she would see the uncertainty in his eyes and something else, something that almost made her feel sorry for him if he were not so arrogant.

There was the odd moment when she detected in those somber eyes of his an uncertainty, a lost young man who was so _alone._

That's ridiculous Gwen she silently laughed and took a sip of wine. And she must have imagined that look in his eyes because it was gone as quickly as it had come.

* * *

The following day Gwaine rocked up on the doorstep.

"Ran out of money and figured, hey I have a rich friend with a limitless supply of booze so I decided to pay you a visit," Gwaine offered in way of explanation, patted Arthur on the back before cheerily waltzing inside the foyer as if he owned the place.

It was only a matter of time before he hit on Gwen.

How did he do it? Arthur marveled. He could barely string two coherent sentences together when coming face to face with Gwen _she hates me._ Thoughts like that didn't help. Then he'd grow increasingly annoyed with himself. If Gwen had such a low opinion of him then who was he to change that? He might as well be the arrogant self centered man she thought him to be and play the part accordingly. That was something he could do well.

They were supposed to be watching a DVD but Gwaine hadn't stopped chatting Gwen up causing Arthur to roll his eyes on numerous occasions. And much to his chagrin Gwen didn't seem to mind Gwaine flirting with her and she often humored him.

Hell she really was clever in her own unassuming way. She was kind, too kind to put up with Gwaine. Morgana would have given Gwaine the evil eye by now and a scornful remark to boot. But not Gwen, dressed in a casual pair of jeans and black tank top, her hair tied back in a side ponytail, curling over her shoulder, enticing a man to want to touch those curls. She barely wore any make-up and she was lovely in a very natural way, fun too and _real. _

He shut those thoughts out of his mind as soon as they took hold.

"You're not supposed to be fraternizing with non-commissioned officers Gwaine," he blurted without thinking. Not realizing how that sounded until it was out there.

Gwen frowned furiously at him and Morgana too.

"Listen to you," Morgana scoffed "I can't believe you at times Arthur."

He shook his head. Why had he said it? So what if Gwaine flirted with Gwen, Gwaine flirted with every female out there that was considered hot enough. It shouldn't bother him.

"Maybe Arthur just likes to think he's better than the rest of us," Gwen returned stiffly.

"No I'm just pointing out a fact," he retorted defensively "I don't think I'm better."

And why was he justifying himself to her? She was just some girl. So what if she was pretty. He didn't even like her.

"Not on base now," Gwaine laughed, putting an arm around his shoulder "she's free game."

"I'm not free game," Gwen protested with much dignity.

"You think just because I'm a mere girl and you two being officer's that I would jump at the chance of going out with either one of you?"

She was so adept at putting him, them, in their place. But it was Gwaine not him that made the _free game _remark.

"Don't lump me in the same category as Gwaine," he huffed.

But naturally she took it the wrong way judging by the pointed glare in her eyes.

"Sorry but I'm not good enough for the likes of you?" she scoffed "what makes you think you are good enough for me!"

Morgana sniggered. Arthur felt his face reddened.

She was so good at putting him in his place much to his chagrin, he should hate her but if anything he actually admired her for it.

"I-I ... that's not what I meant," he stammered.

Gwen folded her arms. "I'm perfectly happy with Emmett."

"You have a boyfriend then?" Gwaine asked, feigning a broken heart by clutching his chest.

"Yes."

"You're going out with Emmett?" Morgana gasped "I thought you were just friends?"

Arthur couldn't recall seeing Morgana that upset or put out before. He had never seen Morgana ever taken with a man or even speak so highly of one as she did Emmett.

Were both girls in love with him?

"Uh no," Gwen hastily replied, biting on her lip.

Arthur could clearly see Gwen didn't want to upset Morgana and at the same time seemed surprised by Morgana's response. Gwen shot a _just trying to put Gwaine off _look to Morgana.

Instant relief crossed Morgana's face. Morgana really was taken with this Emmett. He would have to remember that in future. Maybe for a change he would have one over her. And he felt relieved. Gwen was single. What the hell? So what if she was? What did he care?

"Ahh so free game Gwen," Gwaine sighed giving a smug smile.

Gwen playfully punched him in the arm.

"Still not about to go out with an officer," she quipped.

"And why not?"

"I like a man who happens to work for a living."

She certainly had some cheek and Arthur let out a short amused laugh, without meaning to of course. And for a fraction of a moment her expression softened, a slow smile curving her lips, causing his breath to catch in his throat.

Gwen really was like no other woman he'd met. That thought left an unsettled feeling in the pit of his stomach.

* * *

Arthur barreled out of his bedroom so quickly he almost collided with Gwen in the hallway. His eyes widened. How was it that she looked this adorable so early in the morning, with that sleepy look in her eyes, tousled hair that begged for a man to run his fingers through it? She was only wearing a singlet with no bra, and extra short short PJ bottoms. He quickly averted his eyes. Should he be noticing shit like that? Flustered and at sorts with himself he went to side step at the same time she did and they both ended up getting in each other's way.

"Sorry," she mumbled with a shake of her head, her eyes resting on his bare chest.

He was almost as scantily dressed as she was, wearing nothing more his boxer shorts. Now she was the one to quickly avert her eyes, both of them standing there awkwardly, eyes looking elsewhere but at each other.

"Looks like it's going to be a nice sunny day," he quickly said and then silently chided himself _that sounded so lame._

She nodded, managed a smile. "Yes it does."

He nodded in return. Right time to get to the shower and far away as possible from her but she was the first one to move on.

He glanced over his shoulder and watched her walk down the hallway, admiring the sway of her hips in those oh so short short PJ bottoms. He tore his gaze away in annoyance. She was just a girl, no one of importance he reminded himself.

* * *

Arthur noticed the way Gwaine was cosy with Gwen by the poolside. Both of them sitting on the edge, legs dangling in the water, Gwaine was obviously retelling some amusing story and Gwen was smiling up at him in that sweet way of hers. Then Gwaine raised a hand and lightly caressed her chin and something tight coiled in Arthur's stomach.

Something he hadn't expected and Arthur came to the sudden conclusion that he was jealous. That thought startled him so much that the can of beer froze halfway to his mouth. He Arthur Pendragon was jealous of his own friend for being too close with Gwen. As if Gwen meant anything to him, he inwardly scoffed. She was just some common girl after all and this was absurd.

His eyes rested on her again and there really was no denying it.

His awkwardness around her, too many moments just staring at her because she fascinated him, because he loved watching the way emotions played upon her face. He loved the way her hair curled around her shoulders and the longing to twirl those loose curls around his fingers ... _oh shit._

Taking a deep painful breath, Arthur shut his eyes. Somewhere along the way he had began to fall in love with Gwen.

No, no, no, not possible, how was that possible?

His eyes sprung open and he was completely shocked by this sudden realization.

He glanced over at Gwen. She hated him.

His mouth went dry at the thought. He'd spent the last five days deliberately being more of an arrogant ass than he actually was just to prove that he felt nothing for her.

Gwaine nudged Gwen and the way she nudged him back her hand slipping in his was almost too much for Arthur to bear. He set his can down on the pavement.

He had to get out of there.

"I'm going to bed," he muttered bitterly and hastily made his retreat.

* * *

Morgana had not missed the way Arthur looked at Gwen and a slow smile crossed her face. Arthur had feelings for Gwen and her smile widened. How furious father would be if they ever got together. Maybe it was time she made that happen. Arthur and Gwen and father's outrage was an appealing image in her mind.

Now all she had to do was somehow get Gwen to fall in love with Arthur.

* * *

Arthur was having the most pleasant dream. _Him and Gwen lying on a rug, in close proximity to each other giving him a good view of her cleavage in the pretty pink dress she wore. Reaching out a hand he tweaked the flower from her hair before his thumb brushed lightly against her lips._

_How he wanted to kiss her senseless and badly, there never had been a right time for such indulgence within the castle walls full of prying eyes._

_His father would kill him if he ever found out._

_Leaning in towards her he pressed his lips softly against hers. She deepened the kiss, her tongue slipping intimately into his mouth, teasing, coaxing, her hand sliding across his chest_ ... a blinding white light pierced the room and the dream vanished.

_Merlin. He was going to kill him._

'_Rise and shine Sire.'_

_He'd give him bloody rise and shine._

Arthur rolled over, nearly falling out of his bed, groping for his doona to stop it happening.

What the ... he was dreaming, wasn't he?

Had to be because Gwen hated him, he turned a bleary gaze to Morgana.

"Rise and shine brother." She grinned.

_Rise and shine ... _a boy ... _rise and shine ..._and a frustrating annoying boy at that.

_Can't you think of anything else to say?_

The image faded as quickly as it came. Arthur rubbed his face.

That was weird.

He shook his head and glared up at Morgana. She had opened the blinds and ended his lovely dream because that's all Gwen and he would ever be _a dream._

"You look terrible in the mornings," she quipped and approached the bed.

Arthur dragged himself into a sitting position.

"What do you want Morgana?" he grumbled.

She sat down on the edge of his bed, giving him the once over.

"You've been moping for days in your bedroom," she chided "it's not like you."

He shrugged. "I'm tired."

"So this has nothing to do with Gwen?" she lightly asked, a knowing glint in her eye.

She knew. Arthur's heart sank. Bloody great and how did she know?

"I'm not moping," he protested.

"Really, then what do you call this," she began, touching the three day stubble on his chin.

Okay so maybe he was moping. Not that he was about to admit it.

"I-I'm growing a beard."

Morgana laughed, amusement dancing in her eyes.

"Really Arthur I think you should leave growing a beard to a real man and not subject anyone to your patchy fluff."

He gritted his teeth.

"Why are you here?"

"I was bored," she shrugged.

"I'm bored, I think I'll go torment Arthur to pass the time," he muttered, mimicking her.

She smiled and shook her head. "Actually I have a wonderful idea."

He raised a suspicious eyebrow.

Unperturbed she continued. "You know its Easter in just over a month."

"Yeah so."

"Well seeing as we all have a four day break I thought we should spend it at the cottage in Hampshire."

What was Morgana up to now?

"The cottage is always lovely in the spring and it's been too long since we were last there," she continued.

True. He loved the cottage in the spring with its green pastures, which meant lots of horse riding, pheasant shooting, eating hot pies and chips with gravy by a roaring log fire.

"You inviting Gwen?" he casually asked.

Morgana smiled shrewdly, in that annoying way of hers.

"You want me to?"

He sighed, raked a hand through his greasy hair and looking at said hand with disgust. It was probably about time he considered washing his hair. And there was no point in denying his attraction towards Gwen. Morgana so obviously knew.

"Okay I like her, what's not to like," he sighed.

"I told you you'd like her," she grinned.

He hated it when she was right, which was pretty much always.

"But she hates me," he muttered glumly.

"Show her your nicer, charming side."

He raised an eyebrow. "You think I have one?" he quipped.

She tilted her head to one side as if to consider it, a small amused smile crossing her face.

"Sometimes ... when you're not being annoyingly arrogant."

Arthur gave a brief laugh.

"Alright then, I'll go to the cabin and you can bring Gwen, if she'll come."

Morgana smiled happily "I have my ways" and quickly kissed him on his cheek.

"Can I bring Emmett too?"

Sure why not. Now he would get to meet the infamous Emmett he had heard so much about. He looked forward to sizing up the man that had managed to capture his sister's heart. No easy feat.

"The more the merrier."

* * *

**A/N: Well I bet you can guess what happens next chapter. I'm looking forward to writing it. I hoped you all enjoyed this chapter? I had fun writing the Gwen and Arthur scenes but I'm looking forward to getting back to writing about Merlin.**

**Cheers.**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Thank you, kindly, for the reviews to date. They really do make my day!**

**Sorry for the wait on this chapter! The last week has been insanely busy! I'm a teacher, a high school teacher at that and there are times (weeks) throughout the school calendar year that I have the marking workload from hell! This week being one of them and probably the following two weeks to come but I will endeavor to write when I can and hopefully time between updates won't be too long.**

**I have to confess that I LOVE writing the Merlin and Arthur scenes.**

**That being said; enjoy!**

* * *

_**Chapter 6. The Cottage Part 1.**_

* * *

Merlin heard the front door open. He had been expecting Gwen to return at any moment. Eagerly waiting for what news she had on Arthur. He had had five days home alone with nothing to dwell on but his own thoughts. Those days had been tortuous. There had been lots of pacing, up and down the living room floor and far too much thinking _if people from Camelot had now returned ... why? And would all of them? What about Gaius? And Gwaine, Percival, Lancelot? Would they ever remember anything from their previous lives? Maybe they weren't meant to? What if he was to be the only one to remember? _Just the thought of that made his heart ache. What was the point of being here if no one remembered him? _Arthur would have forgotten their friendship but then even though Gwen didn't remember she still treated him exactly the same. _

Sometimes he'd find himself musing over something from Camelot times and would catch himself up before saying to Gwen _remember that time ... _and gaze into her blank face.

M_aybe they would remember when the time was right. _He hoped_._

He tried to distract himself with watching television but the only show he really liked was Doctor Who and that was only on once a week. Doctor who kept him musing for a while and he'd even been around longer than the Doctor! It tickled his fancy that at least there was one other person who'd also lived a thousand years even if he wasn't real.

"Is that you Gwen?" he called out, scraping the chair back from the kitchen table.

He didn't want to sound too eager. But he was. And Merlin had no sooner pushed the chair in and turned around to see Gwen come bursting through the door.

Before he had a chance to say anything she flew at him, wrapping her arms around his neck, burying her face in his chest her curls tickling his nose.

"Whoa Gwen," he began, an arm going around her.

"I missed you," she murmured "I really missed you."

Merlin frowned, why?

"You didn't have a good time with Morgana?" he inquired.

Gwen pulled back and looked up at him, her face grim.

"It was awful."

"It was," he frowned.

A hand came to rest on her hip. "Uther Pendragon is so racist and his son Arthur is no better."

Arthur was just like Uther, really?

"So I take it you didn't like Arthur?"

It was sort of amusing, kind of like the really early Camelot days.

Gwen dropped her handbag on the table.

"He is insufferably arrogant!" she shot over her shoulder.

Merlin grinned.

"He's a bit of Prat then."

Turning to face him, she lifted a finger. "Yes," she exclaimed shaking the same finger at him, "that word sums him up perfectly."

"I'm sure he has at least one redeemable quality ..."

"No."

Then she paused.

"I guess he could be considered handsome but that's about all he has going for him."

She seemed tensed, edgy. She often got that way when she hadn't eaten.

"Have you had any breakfast?"

She shook her head.

Sighing Merlin placed his hands on her shoulders.

"Sit down and I'll get you some poached eggs."

Gwen gave him a grateful smile.

"And this is why I've missed you Emmett," she sighed, pulling out a chair and sitting down, "apart from Morgana I don't think either Arthur or his racist prig of a father, have a thoughtful bone in their whole body."

Yeah, Arthur wasn't the most thoughtful person Merlin mused as he opened the fridge and pulled the carton of eggs out.

"Least you're not arrogant, and patronizing," Gwen continued, "unlike Arthur."

_You're a riddle Merlin._

_A riddle?_

_Yes but I've got to quite like you. Now I realize you're not as big a fool as you look._

_Yeah, I feel the same. Now that I realize you're not as arrogant as you sound._

Merlin smirked at the memory, cracking two eggs into the boiling pot of water.

_You still think I'm arrogant._

_No. More ... supercilious._

_That's a big word Merlin. You sure you know what it means?_

_Condescending._

_Very good._

_Patronizing__._

_It doesn't quite mean that._

_No, these are other things you are._

"You know Arthur doesn't even know how to boil an egg!" Gwen exclaimed.

Merlin smiled to himself. Yeah that sounded like Arthur.

'_Merlin, thank god.'_

'_Gwen says you're cooking?'_

'_I need you to fetch me two dinners from the palace kitchens.'_

'_So ... you're not cooking.' _

"Who doesn't know something that simple?" Gwen continued rousing Merlin from the memory.

"Someone who's had servants wait on him hand and foot," he returned.

Least Arthur should be able to dress himself in this life time, Merlin mused.

"I get the feeling he doesn't want to take over the Pendragon Industries," Gwen spoke.

Merlin glanced at her, noticed the way she absently twirled a lock of hair around her finger.

"Why's that?"

"Just something I saw in his eyes," she admitted, "I think beneath all of his pride and arrogance is someone who is lonely."

Arthur lonely, Gwen always had been astute. And yeah Arthur had needed him, a friend, someone to put him in his place but also someone that listened.

"You smile all the time Emmett I don't think Arthur even knows how to smile," Gwen murmured, "I almost feel sorry for him, least I would if he wasn't so proud."

* * *

Merlin enjoyed the medical training a whole lot better than basic training. For one, there was no drill and two; the living conditions were a lot better, even the food. He got to see Gwen everyday as they were both training together and no teasing nick names like _Dumbo._

Medicine had changed so much since his days as Gaius' apprentice. He had a knack for it, a so called knowledge that other fellow trainees didn't. Yeah, that was the advantage with having lived so long.

Merlin often found himself reminiscing about his years spent with Gaius. He missed the old man. Would he see him again? Would Gaius return too?

* * *

Two weeks into their training Gwen received a call from Morgana.

"She's asked us both to spend Easter at the cottage Uther owns in Hampshire," Gwen told him over breakfast.

"What both of us?"

Gwen gave a knowing smile. "Morgana misses you and she really wants to see you again."

The fork froze halfway to Merlin's mouth.

He frowned. "Really?"

Gwen nodded a hint of amusement in her eyes. "She likes you."

"I know."

"I don't think you do Emmett," Gwen's smile widened, "Morgana likes _likes _you as in she has a thing for you."

The fork in his hand dropped to the table. He gave Gwen an incredulous look.

"No, no way," he began shaking his head, "that's ridiculous Gwen."

Gwen merely sighed.

Merlin picked up his fork. Morgana liked him? She was only trying to kill him 1400 years ago, he mused but before that ... yes she had liked him as a friend but never more.

"So is Arthur going to be there?" he asked, giving Gwen a sly look.

"I hope not!"

Merlin hid a smile. But what if Arthur was? He would finally see him again, face to face. And would Arthur remember him?

_Don't be daft Merlin_, he inwardly chided, _no one remembers you_.

* * *

"Wow!" Gwen murmured as they stood outside the cottage, "they call this a cottage?"

Merlin looked up at the handsome sprawling two story homestead with its extensive lawns.

"It's beautiful," Gwen continued in awe.

It was and somewhat daunting. Now he was here a nervous anticipation had taken hold. Shit. The moment was upon him, the moment he would see Arthur.

Morgana had sent Gwen a text yesterday. _Arthur will be coming after all, hope you don't mind Gwen. I know you don't like him but he's really not that bad once you get to know him_.

Merlin had since spent the last 24 hours biting his nails.

The front door opened and Morgana came running out to greet them, catching Gwen in a warm embrace before hugging him.

"So good to see you again Emmett," she murmured in his ear.

Gwen's words '_she has a thing for you'_ replayed in his head. Did she really? He gazed into her pretty face, the hesitant smile on her lips. What part she had to play in this present day he didn't know but he hoped to god it would not be like the past. He wanted her to remain sweet like she had been when he'd first met her. Sure she had been beautiful but her kind heart had been her biggest asset. How that had ended up so damaged was beyond him? A horrible guilt he had lived with back then. One he didn't want to have to face again.

"Good to see you too Morgana," he smiled.

She slipped her hand into his and tugged on it. "Let's go inside, meet my brother Arthur."

* * *

Arthur didn't really know what to expect when he met Emmett. But the skinny young man who barely looked past his teens wasn't it. Far from it. His ears stuck out from his thin angular face. There was a twinkle of something Arthur couldn't define in his wide blue eyes. And he found the young man assessing him as much as he was _well_ assessing him.

So this was the infamous Emmett. This was the man Arthur had heard so much about, and what was it that both Gwen and Morgana adored about him?

"Hi I'm Emmett," he grinned holding out a hand.

The way he smiled, it was ... it tugged at something, but he couldn't place it, a sense of déjà vu swamping him.

Arthur lowered his eyes to Emmett's out stretched hand.

"It doesn't bite," Emmett continued in an amused voice.

Oh so he had a sense of humor, just great.

Arthur forced a smile to his lips and shook his hand, just to prove to Gwen that he wasn't rude or a snob or an arrogant prick or anything else she'd figured him to be.

"I've heard so much about you."

_And you are nothing what I expected._

* * *

It was just plain surreal seeing Arthur standing there in front of him. Sure he hadn't seen his face in well over a thousand years, more like about a thousand and four hundred years. During that time his recollection of a person's appearance had greatly faded but seeing Arthur now. It was like no time had passed. Same face, same fair hair, though somewhat shorter and much to his growing disappointment no recognition in those oh so achingly familiar eyes.

Well really what had he expected?

And the way Arthur was sizing him up was just a tad nerve wrecking.

"Hi I'm Emmett," he'd smiled despite his nerves and held out his hand.

Merlin didn't miss the puzzlement in Arthur's eyes, confusion. _It's me Merlin, don't you remember me Arthur? _ A lump formed in his throat.

"It doesn't bite," he quipped.

Arthur smiled, not a genuine one, an attempted one, the type Merlin remembered well. It meant Arthur trying to be polite when he really didn't want to be _the Prat_.

"I've heard so much about you," Arthur spoke.

That accounted for the way Arthur was sizing him up. Morgana must have talked a lot about him and obviously it had irked Arthur, the irony.

"All good things I hope," he grinned.

"Nothing but good," he began a frown denting his forehead as his eyes rested on his face.

Again there was that puzzlement in Arthur's eyes.

_There's something about you Merlin. I can't quite put my finger on it. _

Had Arthur said that? No, Merlin sadly sighed. Different place, different time.

"But you're not what I expected," Arthur continued.

"What just because he's not some egotistical macho buff head like Gwaine," Morgana scoffed beside him.

"Hey is someone talking about me," Gwaine piped up from the doorway.

Merlin's eyes widened. Gwaine!

He couldn't help the silly grin crossing his face. Gwaine waltzed into the room in typical Gwaine fashion, his eyes sweeping over Morgana.

"Admit it Morgana you know deep down you want me," he grinned.

Morgana gave him a withering look. "When hell freezes over."

Unperturbed Gwaine turned his attention to Gwen.

"Ah the lovely Gwen," he continued, taking her hand in his, "still as pretty as ever."

He kissed her hand.

Gwen giggled.

Arthur snorted. "Give it a break Gwaine. You're making me feel like puking."

Gwaine's eyes rested on Merlin next. Funny how 1400 years can pass by and yet Merlin stood there feeling like no time had passed at all. Gwaine still looked the same. Hair shorter but still too long by Army service regulations and only Gwaine could get away with it.

"Emmett I take it," he smiled, shaking his hand in a warm firm handshake, "I like you already and I don't even know why?"

Merlin's smile widened. This really was the oddest surreal day he'd had in a very _very _long time.

* * *

Arthur watched Emmett carefully, trying to figure out why everyone liked him so much, even Gwaine who didn't know him from a bar of soap. Gwaine was treating him like he was his new best friend. Morgana never left Emmett's side and Gwen treated him like a brother, which Arthur was sort of relieved about. Until he remembered that Gwen hated him, so what did it matter anyway.

He'd been polite, said hello to her, smiled even and asked her about the medical training. Ignoring the warmth spreading through his body at the sight of her, and how was it that she had this affect over him? She was wearing blue denim jeans, a light pink t-shirt that fitted snugly across her breasts, which he tried hard not to admire or look at. Her hair was loose and curled down over her shoulders. He briefly wondered what it would feel like to run his hand through those curls.

Tearing his gaze away from her, his eyes rested once again on Emmett. He was squished in between Morgana and Gwen on the couch looking perfectly happy there. He was talking about basic training to Gwaine, with Gwen and Morgana giving their two bits worth.

Did the guy never stop smiling? It grated on Arthur's nerves. It should be a criminal offence for someone to be that happy, he silently fumed. But he was engaging, even if Arthur didn't want to acknowledge it. He found himself listening to every word Emmett uttered and that voice ... it was ... familiar. It made him long for something he couldn't even comprehend.

* * *

Merlin lay awake in bed for a long while. He couldn't sleep. He couldn't stop thinking about Arthur. The way Arthur held himself that bit apart from everyone else, like he wanted to join in but didn't quite know how to. It hurt to see him so.

Arthur watching him, warily and sometimes puzzled, like he was trying to figure him out but couldn't.

Arthur not remembering him after everything they had been through, once shared, now nothing more than a long lost dream.

Arthur still the same in many ways and not.

Merlin thumped his pillow in frustration. He could accept Gwen not remembering him, Morgana and even Gwaine but Arthur? That he couldn't '_I held you as you died in my arms.'_

_'I've waited well over a thousand years for you to return and you have no idea who am I, what I did.'_

* * *

_'The Dragonlord today ... I saw you. One thing I tell all my young knights; no man is worth your tears.'_

Arthur began to stir, the dream fading. He wanted to hold onto it without knowing why, just that he had to. He must. He must remember something important.

It was too vital to let go.

_He picks up a sword and the young dark haired man standing next to him does the same. _

'_What are you doing?' He asks in disbelief and how is it that his servant is so incredibly loyal._

'_I'm coming with you.'_

'_The chances are I'm going to die.'_

'_Yeah. Yeah you probably would if I wasn't there.'_

'_Right,' he scoffs._

'_Do you know how many times I've had to save your royal backside?'_

'_Well at least you got your sense of humour back.'_

Someone was shaking him.

"C'mon princess, get your ass out of that bed."

Bloody Gwaine! The last vestiges of the dream vanishing before his closed eyes and he was going to kill Gwaine later.

No, no, come back. His longing to hold on to the dream puzzling him, what the hell; it was just some random stupid dream that made no sense. Just that dreaming it ... made him feel happy inside and connected somehow.

"Damn it Gwaine, piss off!"

"Emmett's cooking breakfast," Gwaine continued, "and its bacon."

Arthur pulled the pillow over his head groaning. Naturally. Emmett was cooking, because Emmett was bloody amazing and everyone loved him.

* * *

Emmett really could cook, Arthur had to accede. It tasted incredible.

"Where did you learn to cook like that?" Gwaine asked, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

"Oh, I've been around, picked up a few tricks along the way," Emmett replied with a twinkle in his eye as if he knew something they all didn't.

Arthur frowned _around_. Emmett would be barely 19, how much could he learn in that time?

"Thank you Emmett, as always you make the best breakfast," Gwen beamed.

He felt a sudden pang of jealousy. Was there nothing Emmett couldn't do? Maybe he would just have to find that out.

"I was thinking Emmett," he piped up, "that maybe you would like to come shooting with me and Gwaine this morning."

Gwaine gave him a '_what the'_ look, '_since when were we're we going shooting_?'

"Shooting," Emmett frowned, a worried frown denting his forehead, "shooting what?"

Arthur could feel Gwen's eyes on him and quickly amended his next choice of words.

"Just some target shooting."

Emmett glanced at Gwen.

"I think Gwen and Morgana wanted me to go shopping with them."

Arthur just about choked on his bacon.

"What! Are you a girl Emmett?" Arthur blurted out without realizing the full implication of his words and could feel Gwen's disapproving gaze on him.

But Emmett merely grinned as if he found the words endearing and amusing.

"I mean, I didn't mean it like that," Arthur stammered, "just thought you'd like to hang out with us blokes."

"Okay then," he agreed, looking like some eager puppy, "you don't mind do you Gwen?"

"I don't but Morgana might," she lightly teased.

Emmett's face flushed red.

* * *

"Duck shooting," Emmett grumbled, as they crawled through the long reedy grass, "I thought we were target shooting?"

"We are," Arthur grinned back at him, "duck target shooting."

"Why?"

Arthur could feel his frustration mounting.

"Because it's fun."

"It is," Emmett frowned, "how?"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Don't tell me you're some kind of pacifist?"

"No just that I don't see the point of it."

Gwaine merely chuckled.

"Unless you are going to eat them, are you going to eat them?"

"No don't be stupid," Arthur snapped.

"Then why shoot them?"

Arthur felt like tearing his hair out.

"You gotta love this guy," Gwaine grinned, putting an arm around Emmett, "he has a point Arthur."

Arthur gritted his teeth.

"Let's go visit the nearest tavern and have a pint of beer, I'm hanging out for a beer."

"It's not even midday!"

* * *

"So," Arthur drawled, "You and Gwen?" he asked, once Gwaine had left to order some food.

"What about me and Gwen?"

"You like her?" he casually inquired, trying to feign a disinterested look on his face.

"Yeah what's not to like?"

Arthur quickly glanced at him.

"You slept with her?"

Emmett who had taken a long swig of his lemonade, choked. Probably a stupid thing to ask, for one he was young and two he didn't look the type to sleep around with hot girls.

After clearing his throat he looked at Arthur with watery eyes.

"No, of course not, Gwen's just a friend, a good friend and we're close."

Arthur felt relieved and he looked up to find Emmett watching him curiously.

"Why, you like her?"

"No," he shrugged, "off course not."

Emmett didn't look convinced. Arthur's shoulders slumped.

"Okay maybe I do."

There was silence. Arthur chanced a glance at Emmett.

"She hates me doesn't she?"

"Well it's not as if you done much to endear yourself to her," Emmett pointed out.

Arthur stared at him startled. "You're straight down the line."

Emmett shrugged. "You asked." He took another sip of his lemonade. "She thinks your racist like your father."

"But I'm not," Arthur protested.

"Yeah but she doesn't know that."

Arthur looked at Emmett with renewed interest. "What should I do?"

"Show her that you're not."

Arthur frowned. "How do I do that?"

There was a hint of amusement in Emmett's eyes. "Try getting to know her."

Alright for Emmett, he could make friends with anyone, probably even a troll but Arthur just didn't know how.

"Be yourself," Emmett spoke, softly, "the real you Arthur, the person you don't let anyone else see or get close to."

Arthur froze for a moment. How would Emmett know that?

He really was unusual.

"There's something different about you," he began slowly, a frown denting his forehead, "I can't put my finger on it."

Emmett choked on his lemonade _again_.

"I've got an idea," Arthur began brightly, ignoring Emmett's coughing fit, "what if I help you cook breakfast tomorrow morning," he continued pointing a finger at Emmett.

Emmett thumped his chest, his eyes watering.

"How is that going to help you get closer to Gwen," he frowned.

"Least she won't think I'm completely useless," he muttered.

Emmett grinned. "Yeah and she does think you're useless."

Arthur's eyebrows shot up and he noted the amusement in Emmett's eyes. He had some nerve! But instead of being out raged Arthur felt a smile twitch at the corners of his mouth. Picking up a cardboard coaster he flung it Emmett's way. But Emmett quickly dodged it, his grin widening.

* * *

Gwaine insisted they play drinking card games but Morgana opted for monopoly.

"I can only imagine what stupid things you would have us doing," she pointed out.

"I agree with Morgana," Arthur chimed in, "what about you Emmett?"

"Yeah, definitely monopoly."

Though he had no idea what monopoly was?

He soon found out.

Arthur was the racing car, naturally. Gwaine a top hat, Gwen the thimble, Morgana the battleship and he, well he liked the dog.

"Reminds me of Toto from the Wizard of Oz," he grinned.

"I think the boot is more fitting for you Emmett," Arthur quipped and then looking suddenly confused, "though I don't know why?"

Merlin's heart skipped a beat. Funny how Arthur came out with such glib comments, like that past life still existed in the subconscious part of his brain.

"Arthur," Gwen chided, "that's not nice."

His face reddened slightly. "I-I didn't mean not to be nice, just that I had this image of Emmett polishing boots," he stammered.

Yeah, you're boots Arthur. And good going with _endearing _yourself to Gwen.

* * *

It was the best fun. Merlin decided he liked monopoly, especially since he was winning. Gwaine had had too many drinks as usual and made rash choices which resulted in him going bankrupt. Morgana was frugal, never making up her mind about what and what not to buy. Arthur was tactical, but kept ending up landing on everyone else's property, especially Merlin's and having to fork out money, which made him grumpy.

"Sore loser," Merlin would tease him, which would make Gwaine laugh and tease Arthur even further.

Gwen kept ending up in jail.

"In jail again Gwen," Arthur would tease her, seeing as everyone else was teasing him.

"I think I'm safer there," she mused, "I can't lose any money."

Merlin noticed the way Arthur's gaze would rest on her face. He really did have it bad and Gwen was totally impervious to it.

Three hours later Merlin had won.

Gwaine had fallen asleep on the couch.

"You must have cheated?" Arthur sulked.

"You really are a sore loser," Morgana told him, "face it Arthur Emmett happens to be a Monopoly whiz."

"Actually it's all about luck." Arthur stated in a matter of fact way.

"Arthur's right," Merlin agreed, "guess luck was on my side then, beginners luck, I've never played the game before."

Everyone gave him a look of disbelief. Opps. Maybe he shouldn't have said that.

"What kid hasn't played Monopoly," Arthur frowned perplexed.

Merlin racked his brain for a suitable answer. When he was a kid there was no such thing as board games. His whole childhood existence had been completely about survival. How did he word that in a modern day context? _Guess what I was born over 1400 years ago. _

"Just didn't," he stammered.

Morgana's expression softened.

"Well I'm going to make some hot chocolate," she spoke, glancing his way, "you want to help me Emmett?"

Sweet of her to rescue him from having to say anything more and Merlin quickly glanced at Arthur who was trying to indicate with his eyes to go with Morgana '_give me time with Gwen alone'._

"Sure."

Morgana grabbed his hand and pulling him off the couch, dragged him to the kitchen.

* * *

Gwen watched them leave, smiling to herself. Poor hapless Emmett had no idea.

"I'm finding it hard to image Morgana liking someone," Arthur quipped, "of the opposite sex that is."

"Well Emmett isn't just anyone," Gwen sighed, glancing at Arthur, ready to defend her friend if need be. "I suppose you think he's not good enough."

"Not at all," he shot back, surprising her.

"I'm glad she's managed to make friends with people who care about her," he continued, his gaze sincere, "there had been a time when she was hanging out with the wrong types of people and it hadn't been good. I was concerned about the influence they were having on her."

It was the most Arthur had ever spoken to her and she was surprised by his honesty. Maybe she had misjudged him just a tad.

"Even though I'm black," she couldn't help adding, curious to see his reaction.

"I'm not my father," he said simply, "I don't judge a person by the color of their skin or the title they hold."

Was he for real? She raised her eyes to his. His open, direct expression confirming what he had said and she believed him.

"I'm glad," she murmured, "that you are not like your father."

His expression was the closest thing she'd ever seen it approach to shyness, and it somehow startled her; Arthur shy?

He nodded. "Same here," he continued with a quick smile.

Ignoring the sudden warmth she felt Gwen began to tidy up. Maybe she hadn't just misjudged Arthur a tad but quite a lot.

"Let me help you with that," he offered.

He surprised her yet again. Leaning forward in his seat he began collecting up the green houses and red hotels as she placed the money back in their appropriate slots.

"I've never met a kid that's not played monopoly," Arthur mused.

"Emmett's been shafted from one foster care home to another, perhaps he's never had the opportunity."

Arthur's hands went still, "must have been tough" he murmured.

"He doesn't talk about it," she continued, in many ways Emmett was a closed book when it came to discussing his past.

"He's certainly different," he said, "In a good way," he quickly added glancing up at her and Gwen could almost swear that her opinion of him mattered.

Arthur really was a puzzle. She shook her head and a warm smile crossed her face.

"He has what my grandmother would say _an old soul_."

* * *

Arthur lay awake in bed for some time, thinking about Gwen and their conversation, a slow smile crossing his face. Just maybe now she wouldn't hate him quite so much. He hoped. And the warm look she had given him tonight did give him hope. Emmett was right. All he had to do was get to know her and let her get to know the real him.

_He's sitting huddled in the corner of an old abandoned castle, totally terrified, so terrified that his whole body shook with tremors._

'_All the things I've faced ... I never worried about dying.'_

'_I don't think you should now,' the young dark haired man says to him._

_For some strange reason he always feels safe with this person, his servant, no, he amends, his friend, his most loyal friend._

'_Sometimes you puzzle me.'_

'_You never fathomed me out?'_

'_No.'_

'_I always thought if things had been different we'd've have been good friends.'_

'_Yeah.'_

'_That's if you hadn't been such an arrogant, pompous, dollop head.'_

_He chuckles despite his fears_

'_We'll defeat the Dorocha. We will, together, Arthur.'_

_He wants to believe the earnest young man, with all his heart._

'_Well, I appreciate that. You know, you're a brave man.'_

_The screams echoing throughout the long dusty eerie hallways sent shivers down his spine, fear grips his heart. Ah god, they are dead men. It is only a matter of time. _

'_They say the darkest hour is just before the dawn,' he stutters._

'_Feels pretty dark right now,' the young man murmurs._

'_Well, it can't be long then.'_

_The screams are at the door. The Dorocha have found them. Arthur's heart sinks and he begins to do the inevitable; face them. But the young man pulls him back, stands up and starts running at the Doracha. _

_Arthur watches in horror and dread._

_The young man, his friend, his dearest friend jumps at the Dorocha. It catches him in the chest, stops him mid-air and throws him back against the stone wall._

'_Merlin!' Arthur yells, a pain so gut wrenching deep, ripping his heart in half ... 'Nooo!'_

His body jerks violently.

His eyes widened in horror, his heart pounding in his chest, sweat pouring off him and it takes him a moment to realize he was sitting up in a bed.

Slowly the realization dawns on him. It was a dream.

He blinked and his eyes began to take in the decor of his room, a shaft of moonlight slipping through the curtain.

"Just a dream," he murmured to himself, "it was just a dream."

But the deep ache in his heart ... felt so real. He rubbed his chest as if he could wipe the pain away.

Raising a hand to his face he found it wet with tears.

"Now you're losing it Arthur," he half laughed in the dark that sounded too bitter to his ears.

He rubbed at his chest again.

Why did he feel so wretched?

Exhausted he fell back on to the bed, a sob catching in his throat _what had he lost?_

And he, Arthur Pendragon, did not cry and from a damn bloody dream at that. He ran a hand over his eyes. This was ridiculous.

It was just a dream, just a dream, just a dream, nothing more.

He kept telling himself that, till the pain turned to a dull ache. He hadn't lost anything ... _yet he had._

Arthur shut his eyes, shivered.

Who the hell was Merlin?

* * *

**A/N: Please leave a review! Reviews are like payment in gold; precious. I love hearing what people think and I am very excited about where this story is going. Don't let me telling you all I'm a teacher put you off from reviewing! Trust me I'm not going to mark your reviews :)**

**It will still be a while before Arthur remembers, so don't get your hopes up just yet. This is just the beginning of the journey.**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Wow! Thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews! I wasn't expecting that many and you can't imagine how much it made my day!**

**As you can see this chapter is ridiculously long again. I figured the whole Cottage part of the story would only take one chapter. How wrong was I? I should know better by now, I'm always saying to myself 'I'll have this story wrapped up in so many chapters' and it never happens.**

**I just wanted to say one thing in response to one review. Dreams are funny things. Just because Arthur dreams of Merlin it doesn't necessarily mean that he'll think he's lived a past life before or remember him. I know I often have dreams of places I think I know when dreaming but can't recall having been there when I wake up. I've dreamed of people I think I know but don't. I've even dreamed of people who are supposed to be this person I know but they really don't look like them. Arthur isn't stupid but at this stage of the story, to him, it's still a dream and not a memory. Not that it'll always remain that way of course.**

**There is a bit of everything in this chapter; romance, building friendships, humor and even some action. Not much in the way of angst yet but believe me that is coming.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

_**Chapter 7. The Cottage Part 2.**_

* * *

Merlin knocked on Arthur's door. There was no answer _typical_. Pushing the bedroom door open he peered inside the gloomy room.

Arthur was fast asleep, snoring as usual.

Should he wake him? He did say he wanted to help out with breakfast. Grinning Merlin walked over to the curtains, time to wake the prat up in old Camelot style.

He briskly yanked the curtains back.

"Rise and shine," he cheerily called out.

Arthur groaned, pulling the doona over his head.

"Go away Morgana," he grumbled.

"What I sound like a girl now," Merlin quipped.

Arthur turned bleary eyes in his direction, a frown denting his forehead.

"What are you doing here?"

"You wanted to help me cook breakfast."

Arthur dragged himself into a sitting position.

"You still up to it?" Merlin asked knowing all too well that Arthur wasn't a morning person.

But Arthur didn't answer and there was a strange sort of faraway look in his eyes as if was trying to recall something.

"Arthur," Merlin prompted.

Arthur blinked.

"You don't have to, you'll probably only burn the kitchen down anyway," he continued cheerily.

Arthur glanced at him, scowling.

"I'm sure it can't be that hard to make toast."

Merlin tilted his head to the side thoughtfully, "depends of the toaster and the person making it."

"Are you implying that I'm so useless that I can't make toast?"

Merlin grinned at the sudden annoyance in Arthur's eyes.

"Right now you are fighting the compulsion to throw something at me," he continued.

Arthur's eyes widened in surprise, "yes," he frowned "how did you know that?"

"Just look the type," he quipped, "I'll see you down there."

Merlin made a hasty retreat before Arthur actually did find something to throw at him.

* * *

Arthur watched Emmett exit his room, his frown intensifying. He had some nerve. And cheek. Not to mention there was something strangely familiar about him. It was the dream. Images of the dream flashed through his mind, images that he tried to make sense of but they had a way of eluding him. The young man in his dream, Emmett was the young man in his dream.

Nah, Arthur inwardly scoffed, why would he dream about Emmett?

He dragged himself out of bed. His head felt groggy and thick. He pulled on a pair of jeans and reached for his crumpled sweater, dumped on the back of a chair. Even his arms felt heavy, lethargic, his legs stiff. He felt like he'd just run a marathon.

Not bothering with shoes Arthur left the room and stumbled down the stairs. He felt emotionally drained, which was weird and again flashes of images jumped to mind ... it was the dream. Bad things happened in it. There were ghosts, sort of, not quite but like ghosts and they had a name but he couldn't recall what it was now.

Arthur walked down the corridor towards the kitchen. And then there was the boy, more a young man. He couldn't recall his face. And no matter how hard Arthur tried to picture it, the man's face remained a blur.

"Oh there you are Arthur," Emmett spoke as he entered the kitchen.

Emmett glanced his way, an amused glint in his eyes. "You're looking ..." his eyes raked over his disheveled appearance, "dapper this morning."

Arthur frowned. That voice _if things had been different_.

"Why don't you start with getting the bread from the cupboard," Emmett continued before turning to the fridge and opening it.

Arthur moved to the pantry '_we would have been good friends', _Emmett's voice. No, that was stupid. He opened the pantry and reached for the loaf of bread. Why the hell would he dream about Emmett but the more he began to recall the dream, the way the young man ran towards the white wispy spirits, his lanky frame, his black hair.

Arthur shut the pantry and stared at Emmett's back. It had to be him. Emmett turned around with a carton of eggs in his hands and placed them near the stove.

"You," Arthur began, pointing a finger at him.

Emmett looked up. But he couldn't be Emmett; the young man in his dream went by another name, didn't he?

"What?" Emmett asked a curious look in his wide blue eyes.

Arthur realizing he was still pointing a finger at Emmett lowered his hand. He frowned, what was the name? He tried racking his brain, why couldn't he remember the damn name? It was right there on the tip of his tongue.

"Arthur?" he heard Emmett murmur, "you alright."

Arthur blinked and shook his head, "yeah, just had this weird dream last night."

Emmett was pulling a frying pan out of a bottom draw.

"What about?" he casually inquired.

"You, I think."

Emmett straightened up, frying pan in one hand. His eyes widened in surprise before a slow smile crossed his face.

"You were dreaming about me?"

"Not in that way," Arthur quickly returned, realizing just how much that could be taken in the wrong context.

He glanced up to see the amusement in Emmett's eyes.

"So what happened in this dream?" he asked, seeming interested, placing the frying pan on the stove.

"It was bad," Arthur began, dropping the loaf of bread on the bench next to where Emmett stood, "you died, I think."

"Great," Emmett returned dryly, "hope it's not a premonition," he added.

"Why would it be?" Arthur scoffed.

"Well you and I are probably going to end up at Camp Bastion, we could even get sent out to the Helmand Province," he explained, reaching for a can of oil above the stove, "that's where most of the causalities take place, in the last two years over 200 soldiers were killed there, not to mention 2,000 and more were injured mostly from explosions and then there's the list of amputations."

Arthur frowned at his ramblings.

"Is that what you do in your spare time?" he began, "read grim statistical information?"

"Just like to know what I'm in for," Emmett shrugged.

"I doubt it's a premonition," Arthur muttered, "besides the place ... was unlike anything I'd seen before. I think it was some sort of old abandoned castle."

The oil can fell from Emmett's hands and went crashing to the ground.

"Damn," Emmett gasped before kneeling down to grab the can.

Arthur could almost swear there was a flustered look in his eyes.

"I thought you would have been dreaming about Gwen," Emmett quipped glancing up at him, making Arthur wonder if he'd only imagined that look in his eyes.

He rolled his eyes, "trust me, I'd rather dream about Gwen than you."

Emmett grinned, straightened up and sprayed the pan with oil.

"Why don't you make yourself useful and grab the butter from the fridge," he instructed.

Arthur moved away from the bench towards the fridge. Okay, butter, that was easy enough. He opened the fridge but couldn't see anything that looked like butter.

"Where's the butter?" he muttered over his shoulder.

Emmett opened up a compartment on the fridge door and pulled out the butter.

"Well what's it doing there?" Arthur scowled.

Emmett tapped on the compartment door. Arthur looked at the word; butter.

"Right," he muttered, "well I'll know next time."

Emmett grinned in amusement and reaching for a packet of bacon he handed it to him.

"What do I do with that?"

"Its bacon, you lay it flat in the frying pan."

Arthur nodded.

"You take it out of the plastic first."

"Right, take it out of the plastic," he murmured, walking over to the frying pan.

He pulled the plastic back. Well that was easy, he mused and carefully laid the bacon side by side in the frying pan. It began sizzling.

"This isn't hard at all," Arthur said lightly over his shoulder.

Emmett handed him a pair of tongs.

"What's that for?"

"You need to turn the bacon once it's brown enough."

Arthur opened the tongs, closed them, opened them again and closed them.

"I know fascinating isn't it," Emmett said in an amused voice.

Arthur resisted the temptation to snap Emmett's nose with them. He had a smart remark for everything.

"How do I know when to turn the bacon?"

"You just want to lightly brown the bacon," Emmett instructed and went to the leave the kitchen.

"Where are you going?" Arthur called after him.

"I gotta pee, don't burn the toast," he returned, his voice wafting down the corridor.

Right toast and he gazed down at the bacon sizzling in the frying pan. It was kind of mesmerizing Should he turn it now? Opening the tongs, Arthur started flipping the bacon over to the other side, it spat at him, the hot oil burning a spot on his hand. He jumped back, rubbing at the offending stinging burn. The bacon continued to spit hot oily bits of fat. It was kind of gross and he still hadn't finished turning the bacon. He waited for the spitting to stop and carefully turned another piece of bacon over. More fat spat at him, burning his arm. Dammit. He grabbed a nearby tea-towel and tried shielding himself with it. Not that it did much good and more fat from the bacon spat at him, stinging his arm again.

"Shit!" he exclaimed, dropping the tea-towel onto the stove and rushing over to the sink, turning the cold water tap on and putting his arm under it.

Ah, that was better. Cooking was horrible. That's the last time he ever offered to help. He'd just leave it to the experts and what was that smell?

* * *

Gwen heard the smoke alarm start ringing shrilly and she hurried to the kitchen. Smoke was billowing from the toaster and Arthur stood there a panicked look on his face.

"I don't know how to stop the damn thing!"

Rushing over, she quickly flipped both sides of the toaster open and two slices of charred toast dropped out. She waved the offending smoke out of her eyes, coughing. Arthur did the same, his eyes watering and she looked at him in disbelief.

"You were making toast?"

"Trying to," he returned glumly, "as you can see I suck at it."

She tried not to smile at the dismayed expression on his face.

"It would help if you updated your appliances here, they are very old and kind of dangerous," she suggested gesturing to the toaster, "the newer toasters pop up on their own but not that thing."

He ran one hand through his fair hair so that it stood on end like a boy's, causing the corners of her mouth to twitch.

"Just as well you turned up then."

And he smiled at her. So infectious was that smile that Gwen smiled back without meaning to.

"Next time you want to learn to cook you should get me to help you, you don't want to burn the kitchen down," she suggested.

He grinned, the widest warmest grin Gwen had ever seen and oh dear but he really did have the most gorgeous smile and the way his teeth kind of over-lapped, cute and the light of amusement dancing in his eyes. It changed his whole countenance causing her heart to skip a beat _please don't smile like that at me again._

Damn it, damn the man and she couldn't stop the slow smile crossing her face or the heat suffusing her cheeks.

"Shit!" Arthur suddenly exclaimed the smile leaving his face.

Gwen turned in the direction of his horrified look and the stove was on fire. Arthur acted quickly, filled a glass with water and tossed it onto the flames, Gwen followed suite and they both stood there watching the burnt bacon floating in water with the burning remains of a tea-towel.

"You left a tea-towel on the stove?" she slowly asked. He really was a walking disaster when it came to cooking.

"Yeah, I wasn't thinking," he muttered, running a hand up the back of his neck.

Emmett bolted into the kitchen, stopping in his tracks, his eyes going from the burnt bacon, charred tea-towel and Arthur's face.

"I leave you for one minute," he began.

"More like five," Arthur returned sulkily.

"You nearly set the kitchen on fire," Emmett pointed out, in disbelief.

"You shouldn't have left me alone and how can it possibly take five minutes to take a leak?"

"I got distracted."

"Doing what?"

"Thought I'd brush my teeth."

"Then this is your fault," Arthur stated, pointing a finger at Emmett.

"How's that?" Emmett frowned, "you're the one stupid enough to leave a tea-towel lying on a lit stove," he paused for a moment, puzzled, "how someone can be that daft?"

Arthur's face reddened. "Right, so you are saying I'm stupid and daft," he growled.

"When it comes to cooking, yeah," Emmett smiled amused, "no one should let you within ten feet of a lit stove ever again."

"Ha, ha, you really are quite the comedian Emmett," Arthur muttered dryly.

Gwen smiled, shaking her head and trying to hold the laughter in.

"You know you two bicker like an old married couple," she quipped.

That shut them both up. Emmett moved to flick the switch that stopped the smoke alarm blaring.

Arthur turned to her.

"Right that's official then," he began, "Gwen is going to teach me to cook and you're fired Emmett."

What! Oh, no, no, no.

"You did offer Gwen."

She didn't think he'd actually take her up on that offer!

"Great, he's all yours Gwen," Emmett grinned.

Momentarily dazed Gwen didn't notice the wink Arthur and Emmett exchanged before Emmett waltzed out of the door.

* * *

When Emmett told her about Arthur setting the kitchen on fire Morgana couldn't stop laughing.

She had teased him merciless about it over breakfast. She found it hilarious that he even attempted to cook anything. Arthur as usual just took it in his stride. He was well used to her teasing by now.

"In Arthur's defense that toaster is ancient and if no one showed him how to use it then how was he to know how to get the toast out," Gwen pointed out.

Morgana smiled slowly to herself. Interesting, Gwen sticking up for Arthur, maybe there was some hope there after all.

"Thank you Gwen," Arthur smiled at her.

Did Morgana just detect a hint of color in Gwen's cheeks? She glanced at Emmett, who was watching them with amusement. Looks like Emmett knew more than he was letting on.

She cornered him in the kitchen washing dishes after breakfast. Picking up a tea-towel she began drying the dishes. Any excuse for being with Emmett, though he still treated her as just a friend and what did she have to do to get him to notice her as something more?

"I think Arthur likes Gwen?" she said.

"Yeah he does."

"What about Gwen?"

"You'd probably know more than me about that Morgana."

"Hmm, I think we need to give her a little push in the right direction."

Emmett glanced sideways at her. He smiled.

"Are you scheming again Morgana?"

She smiled back.

"I think I have an idea."

"Which is?"

"You need to make yourself scarce, it won't work if your here."

"I wouldn't mind checking out some of those antique shops back in town."

"Take Gwaine with you."

* * *

Morgana waited until Arthur was in the shower before ushering Emmett to go.

As on cue Emmett asked Gwaine if he wanted to go see some antique shops.

"What about Arthur?" Gwaine asked.

"You really think he'd want to browse through antique shops?" Emmett returned.

"Good point."

"Have fun," Morgana called out when they went to leave, grabbing Emmett by the sleeve of his jacket in passing.

"Thank you," she murmured in his ear and lightly kissed him on the cheek.

Emmett's face reddened and he all but fell out the front door.

Gwaine chuckled and she closed the front door behind them, smiling.

Now for stage two. Morgana walked into the living room and found Gwen curled up on the sofa reading a book.

"Any good?" she asked, sitting down next to her.

Gwen moved her legs out of the way. "It's okay, a bit slow."

"Breakfast was interesting," Morgana continued, "Arthur trying to cook."

Gwen smiled.

"It was funny but at least he's trying."

"I can't figure out why he's suddenly decided to learn to cook?"

Gwen lowered her book.

"It's about time that he did, might not always have people around to wait on him hand and foot."

"True."

"You know how to cook," Gwen pointed out.

"Yeah, but I'm not Arthur," she grinned.

"Are you still going on about that Morgana," Arthur grumbled as he walked into the living room.

He glanced at her before his gaze lingered on Gwen, his expression softening.

"It's just too funny Arthur," Morgana returned and watched as Arthur dragged his gaze away from Gwen, his eyes sweeping the room.

"Where's Emmett and Gwaine?" he asked.

"Antique shopping."

Arthur frowned. "Really? Antique shopping, they didn't ask me?"

"You feeling left out brother."

"No," he snorted but looking as if he was, "are you sure it's safe to leave Emmett alone with Gwaine?"

Gwen lowered her book again and smiled. "Emmett isn't stupid, he's wiser than he looks," she paused, reflectively, "unusually so for someone his age."

Gwen was right, Morgana mused, Emmett was different, funny, sweet, appeared naive but also knowing. It's what fascinated her about him.

Arthur grabbed the paper, and sat down on the sofa opposite them.

"Anything interesting?" Morgana asked him after a few minutes, dragging her thoughts away from Emmett.

"Not really."

"Hmm I'm surprised you can read anything without your glasses."

Arthur shuffled the paper in annoyance. Gwen looked up from her book, puzzled.

"I lost them," he curtly returned.

Oh really Arthur, was he too vain to wear them in front of Gwen.

"I know," she smiled, "I found them shoved down between the cushions of the sofa."

She held up his glasses. Arthur lowered the paper and nearly all but glared at her.

"Thank you Morgana."

She leaned forward in her seat and handed them to him, grinning.

"It must be so annoying, trying to read without them."

He took them from her, scowling.

"It is," he muttered, shoving them on his face.

Gwen smiled, "very distinguished."

He smiled in return. Morgana refrained from rolling her eyes.

"Arthur, distinguished," she snickered.

Arthur glared at her and resumed reading.

Morgana switched the television on. Every now and again she noticed how Arthur glanced Gwen's way. He really was almost as clueless as Emmett when it came to girls. It was funny to see him so nervous when he usually acted so sure of himself.

"I'm dying for a cappuccino," Morgana sighed.

"I can go get us one," Gwen offered as Morgana knew she would.

"You want to take my car?"

Gwen shook her head, closing her book.

"I think I'll walk, it's not far and I could do with the fresh air."

Morgana glanced at Arthur.

"You should go with her Arthur," she suggested, "just in case, not always safe to walk alone."

"You don't have to?" Gwen began, "I'll be fine."

Arthur lowered the paper.

"I don't mind, could do with a walk myself."

Morgana smiled and just like that, Arthur and Gwen would be alone together. She felt proud of her matchmaking scheme.

* * *

They walked along the lane way. It really was a beautiful sunny day for April, and warmer than usual for this time of the year. Arthur fell in stride with her. His hands shoved in his jacket pockets, the wind tousling his fair hair. And much to Gwen's dismay she was beginning to find that she liked him.

How had that happened?

"Morgana is a terrible tease and yet you just take it," she said, glancing sideways at him curiously.

Why did he take it so calmly and he really was a different person when away from the mansion he lived in and the influence of his father.

"I'm used to it."

"Has she always been like that?"

He smiled at her, "unfortunately."

They chatted about siblings, him Morgana. She talked about her brother. He was surprisingly easy to talk too.

"Morgana has a way with words," Arthur said, "she always has, I used to envy that."

"Why?" she asked.

He glanced at her quickly before focusing on the lane way ahead.

"I'm not very good at expressing my feelings," he stammered, "I never had a mother to give me any affection and well ..." he raked a hand through his hair, giving her a knowing look, "you've met my father."

Gwen could imagine him as a small child, roaming that big huge mansion alone and lost. No one to comfort him when sad or afraid, no one to kiss and hug him goodnight, and it made her heart ache for him. She couldn't help but catch his fingers in hers as they strolled along and give them a light squeeze. When she went to pull her hand free, Arthur tightened his hold.

She turned and looked at him surprised.

"Gwen," he began, "I wanted to say ..." his voice broke off there, his cheeks reddening slightly.

"Oh hell maybe this will explain it."

Leaning towards her he captured her lips with his in a soft lingering kiss that caused Gwen's heart to flutter in her chest. Arthur was kissing her! Why? And before the thought took hold she found herself deepening the kiss. This was madness ... this was unbelievable ... this was ... god he could kiss.

Time stood still and everything in her being yearned towards him. She heard the soft moan deep in her throat as his lips continue to roam over hers. Then his hand came up to cup her face and he pulled back.

She opened her eyes and gazed up at him.

There was an astonishing warmth in his blue eyes, in the faint smile that tugged the corners of his mouth upward making her toes curl.

"I've been wanting to do that all weekend," he murmured.

His thumb brushed over her lips.

"Y-You like me?" she stammered in disbelief and damn the husky tone in her voice.

He smiled in that warm and far too gorgeous way of his.

"You still hate me?"

She shook her head. "No."

He pulled her into his arms. "I'm glad," he murmured in her hair.

Her arms slid around him despite telling herself, this was crazy, it was too sudden yet ... it felt so right.

One of his hands stroked through her hair, the curls catching in his fingers. He smiled again.

"I've been wanting to do this too," he spoke, voice husky, "touch your hair."

Oh god, this was far too tortuous.

"So soft for such curly hair."

She was mesmerized by the desire in his eyes. Then his lips were on hers again, with a passion and desperation that caused her body to heat up ten degrees. His tongue slipped intimately into her mouth and she deepened the kiss, her hands circling around his neck, brushing against the short ends of his hair.

"Gwen," he breathed in her ear, "I don't know what you do to me but I can't stop thinking about you."

Her heart was pounding in her chest at the sound of those words. It was all happening too quickly. They needed to slow down, assess what was happening between them because two days ago she didn't even like him!

"Arthur ... wait," she gasped, pulling back, "this ... this is just so sudden."

She brushed her tousled hair back from her face and gazed into his eyes.

Of course it was. He hadn't meant to get that passionate with her. It was supposed to be just a simple kiss on the lips but when she responded he just couldn't control himself; which was odd because he was always, mostly in control of his emotions.

"I'm sorry," he sighed, raising a hand and lightly touching her cheek, "just when I'm around you I don't always think straight."

She managed a smile, looking adorably sweet. He smiled crookedly in return.

"Now isn't this swell," sneered a voice from behind him.

Arthur spun around and noticed three, not so friendly looking men, approach them. One had a knife in his hand, the one that had just spoken. Bloody great timing and shit, he quickly and gently pushed Gwen behind him.

"Just give me all the money you have," he said, pointing the knife at Gwen's handbag, "and no one has to get hurt."

Arthur assessed the situation. Okay the guy holding the knife was big but the other two didn't look like they would put up much of a fight.

"Just give him the bag Arthur," Gwen hissed in his ear.

He could take them on. All he had to do was get the knife from the big man's hand. He'd learned combat fighting during training. Pity he didn't have a sword.

"This isn't the time to play hero Arthur," Gwen continued and he heard the urgency in her voice.

Ignoring her advice, he lunged at the big guy with as much force as he could muster catching the man unawares. The man fell back to the ground and Arthur shoved a knee in his groin, followed by a fist to his face and the knife flew out of the man's hand. Seizing the moment, Arthur leapt for the knife just as he felt a boot kick him in the ribs. Pain radiated up his chest and he rolled over, managing to scramble quickly to his feet to face his next opponent. But before he had a chance to respond, a fist connected with his face, sending him staggering back and stars swam before his eyes.

He heard Gwen yell, "Arthur!"

He shook his head to clear it, where the hell was the knife. Turning, he saw it there on the ground and kicked it away as far as he could in the short time he had before he was dealt another blow to his cheek. This one wasn't as hard giving him the chance to respond and he punched back at the scrawny looking man with all of his strength.

The man crumpled to the ground and he looked up at Gwen just in time to see her spray perfume in the other scrawny guy's eyes. He howled and then made a move towards her but she kicked him back. Arthur went to help her when he felt someone grab his legs and he fell to the ground, smashing his knee on a rock. Blinding white pain burst before his eyes and he rolled onto his back, clutching at his knee in agony. He tried to focus. Gwen, was she alright?

Forcing his eyes open he looked up to see that the big guy was on his feet. Not good, because Arthur was pretty sure he would struggle to get to his own feet let alone fight and damn but he should have listened to Gwen.

"Leave them alone!" someone yelled out.

He looked up to see Emmett running towards them. Where had he come from? And he was a bloody sight for sore eyes. Instant relief swamped him.

Emmett stopped just a few feet from them, his worried gaze going from Gwen to him.

There was just one problem. He was damn useless. The big burly thug now on his feet looked threatening and intimidating and extremely pissed off. Luckily he didn't have the knife but how the hell was Emmett going to fight him?

He spied Gwen slowly move to where the knife lay and he gave her a warming look, shaking his head _don't do it Gwen, leave it alone _if anything happened to her. It would be his fault. Damn it but she was totally ignoring his look and kept moving.

Luckily the big man's attention was fixed on Emmett and he began to approach him. Much to Emmett's credit he didn't even look remotely afraid. He merely held out both hands in front of him in a _stay back_ gesture. And Arthur felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. _Those hands _... he had seen them before. A cold chill crept through him. He took a deep breath as realization hit him deep in the pit of his gut. In his drawings _I have magic. _

"What the hell," the man laughed, "what are you going to do with bare hands."

Arthur was half expecting Emmett's eyes to glow with a golden light and the man go flying backwards.

"This," Emmett grunted, lowering his hands and in one quick movement he kneed the man in the groin.

The man sunk to the ground groaning and Emmett clenching his fist punched him hard in the face, knocking the man out cold.

Arthur couldn't believe it. How the hell had skinny gangly, pacifist, girly Emmett knocked a big burly man out cold? It wasn't feasible. It was ... it was ... just who the hell was Emmett?

The other two men took off.

"And let that be a lesson to you," Emmett yelled after their retreating backs.

Arthur's whole body went stock still _and let that be a lesson to you_ spots of a different kind swam before his eyes.

Emmett turned around and grinned at them.

"I've never done that before, punched someone, it felt good."

Then his eyes fell on Arthur and worry replaced the grin.

"You don't look good."

"Great deduction Emmett," he retorted, the pain making him short tempered along with the weird bizarre memory or whatever the hell it was.

Emmett couldn't be the boy in his drawings he rationalized His eyes didn't flash gold and the man didn't go flying backwards. It was just some weird coincidence. And there was no such thing as magic _obviously_.

Gwen was quickly by his side.

"I told you not to play hero Arthur," she chided, looking cross and upset at the same time, "you put both our lives in danger."

He lowered his eyes. She was right. He was an idiot.

"I'm sorry Gwen," he murmured, ashamed.

What had been a lovely romantic moment had now turned into a damn nightmare. Great going with trying to win her over, he silently chided.

"Are you alright?" he quickly asked her.

She nodded. "I'm fine but you don't look fine."

He felt color flood his face at his own foolishness.

"I know I'm an idiot," he gritted through clenched teeth.

He glanced up at Emmett.

"Emmett go get the knife before the thug wakes up."

Emmett nodded and moved to retrieve the knife.

Arthur felt Gwen's warm hand touch his face.

"You are going to have some shiner there," she said softly and he saw the concern in her eyes.

He didn't deserve it. Then her eyes fell to his knee and widened in shock.

He glanced down at the injured knee and noticed the amount of blood soaking through his jeans.

"Shit Arthur," she gasped and before he had a chance to respond she knelt down beside him and started rolling the leg of his jeans up.

A nasty six inch gash ran up the side of his knee and was bleeding profusely causing his face to pale. He felt suddenly faint.

"Here use this," Emmett said, shoving a handkerchief at Gwen.

How did he get there so quickly?

"You have the knife?" he asked him.

Emmett showed him the knife before his eyes rested on his knee.

"It'll need stitches," he told Gwen, "the car is parked not far from here, you think you can stand Arthur?"

Arthur nodded. Gwen and Emmett helped him to his feet, sharp shards of pain shot through his knee. He would have fallen over if Emmett didn't have such a tight hold of him.

"Y-You know Emmett you are surprisingly strong for someone so s-skinny," he stuttered, his teeth rattling together.

"I'm stronger than I look."

Emmett slung one of his arms over his shoulder and Gwen did the same on the other side. Between the two of them they helped him to the car.

"What were you doing there?" Arthur asked, hating the way his voice shook, "how did you find us?"

"Gwaine was chatting up some pretty girl behind the cafe counter and I got bored so I decided to check out the next antique shop when I heard Gwen shout Arthur and she sounded panicky so I investigated," Emmett explained.

"Just as well you did," Arthur hissed as the pain worsened causing his whole body to shake.

What was happening to him?

"It's just a bit of shock," Emmett explained as if reading his mind, "you'll be fine."

But Arthur had another question. He had to know.

"What was with the hands?"

The hand thing was still freaking him out. It was just so uncanny and bizarre and it left a funny emotion he couldn't define ... like something he had once known, something now lost.

"Just a way to distract him, worked didn't it." Emmett returned with a smile.

He managed a shaky smile in return.

"You're a riddle Emmett."

To immersed by the pain in his knee Arthur didn't notice the sudden frozen look of shock on Emmett's face.

"But I like you," he continued.

* * *

They spent two hours at the doctor's surgery. Morgana rang Gwen on her mobile phone sounding worried and stressed. Gwen explained what had happened.

Emmett retrieved Gwaine from the cafe. He was still there chatting up the blonde.

Arthur had to have a number of stitches in his knee, followed by an x-ray and an ultrasound which showed significant inflammation but no major damage. He was given a set of crutches and told to take it easy for the next couple of weeks.

They spent another hour giving a statement of what had happened down at the police station. Needless to say by the time they returned to the cottage it was well into the afternoon.

"It's not fair," Gwaine grumbled in the car on the way back to the cottage, "I missed all of the action. I could have taken all three of them down."

Arthur snorted, "yeah, right."

"And as I recall Princess you had to be rescued by a girl and a skinny kid," Gwaine chuckled.

"I would have been alright if I hadn't smashed my knee on that damn rock," Arthur returned.

"It was a stupid thing to do," Gwen chided, "I only had twenty dollars in my purse, hardly worth getting injured for."

"But it's the principle fair Gwen," Gwaine pointed out "it's about a man's honor."

Gwen didn't look impressed. "You mean a macho egotistical pride."

Merlin laughed. He was sitting next to Gwaine on the back seat. Gwen was driving and Arthur was sulking on the passenger side, his strapped up knee spread out before him.

"It's just as well Emmett turned up to save the day," Gwen continued, giving him a smile in the revision mirror.

"And just because I'm skinny it doesn't mean I'm weak," Merlin stated, "I'm not a kid either."

Gwaine glanced at him curiously. "How old are you?"

_One thousand four hundred and thirty years or there about _he mused_._

"20."

"Well for a gangly 20 year old you knocked a man unconscious, which not even Arthur could do," Gwaine had to point out smirking, "I'm impressed."

Merlin shrugged, trying to be modest but smiling smugly. He had saved Arthur without using magic for a change.

"They showed us how to do that in basic training, I didn't think it'd work."

He looked down at his bandaged hand. It had hurt too, displaced a couple of his knuckles in the process.

Gwaine put an arm around him.

"Mate, you can fight alongside me any day in battle."

And he had, and none of them even knew or remembered it. Merlin rubbed at the sudden ache in his chest.

* * *

Gwen hadn't felt so conflicted in a long while. Fresh in her mind was the memory of Arthur kissing her and she had kissed him back. When kissing him she had felt such deep and intense emotions she couldn't ever remember having felt before. It both scared and baffled her. Watching him doze on the couch, his face paler than normal apart from the bruise on his cheek she had to accede that she didn't just like him, she liked him a lot but he made her so cross at the same time. What had he been thinking taking on those men? Why did he? Okay he was stupid but he was also brave and ... special in a way she couldn't comprehend. He was like no other man she had known before.

When everyone was busy elsewhere and it was just her alone with Arthur in the living room she couldn't help but stroke his face. He was asleep. She could safely touch him. He wouldn't know.

Her fingers lightly stroked his hair. She marveled in these new feelings towards him. What was is about him? Why did he suddenly mean so much more to her?

* * *

Merlin was just about to walk into the living room when he noticed Morgana standing in the doorway, peering through the crack in the door. Hearing him she quickly put out a hand to stop him entering.

"Look," she whispered, gesturing with her thumb to the living room.

Merlin peered around the door. Gwen was kneeling beside the couch, stroking Arthur's hair, a look of such tenderness of her face and he froze on the spot.

_'She loved you. She never stopped loving you' _words he had uttered on one of his many pilgrimages to Arthur's last resting place _lake Avalon._

Merlin felt tears burn at the back of his eyes. Oh Gwen. Only he knew; remembered what she had suffered when Arthur died. After all he had been there.

"Who would have thought," Morgana murmured softly beside him.

"Yeah," he quietly returned, his voice thick with emotion, "who would have?"

"You care so much," Morgana murmured astonished, "I've never met anyone like you before."

Her eyes met and held his, a question in their depths and her expression softened. He was touched by her words.

"Don't change Morgana," he spoke without meaning to.

A frown wrinkled her forehead. "Why would I?"

He shook his head, lowered his eyes, not knowing what to do and afraid of the sudden intimacy. What did the future hold? Why was Morgana drawn to him and sure she was sweet but would she stay that way? He sorely hoped so.

"Why do you care so much about Gwen?" he heard her ask in a wistful voice.

"I love her," he said slowly, "like a sister," he quickly added seeing Morgana's shocked face. "It's hard to explain."

_They had a lot of history, so many years. He loved them both Gwen and Arthur. But it was Gwen that had pulled him together, been there when he needed someone the most when he'd been nothing more than a wreck after Arthur died. Returning from Lake Avalon he had barely left his room. Two months had passed when she came to him. Sitting on the edge of his bed she was wringing her hands together in her lap._

'_I need you Merlin,' her voice not more than a whisper on the still night air._

_He could hear the sorrow in her voice, the tears that trickled down her cheeks._

_Something snapped inside of him then. He was being selfish, sure he was suffering, he'd lost his best friend, screwed up destiny but Gwen had lost Arthur too. They were both suffering._

_He sat up, slowly pulled her into his arms and just held her. She clung to him like he was her life line. _

_Shared grief was better than suffering alone. He found a new purpose. He would protect Gwen, be there for her and not just because it would have been what Arthur wanted but for her and also him. They needed each other, more than ever now Arthur was gone._

* * *

**A/N: I am most anxious to see what people think of this chapter. Please leave a review! Any feedback, what you liked, what you didn't like even. I try to remain true to character as much as possible and the relationship dynamics.**

**I'd love to hear people's thoughts on dreaming, as it's a subject area that's kind of fascinated me since watching the film Inception. Notice how a dream never has a beginning? You're just smack bang in the middle of it. **

**I know the action is a bit slow but I'm still establishing character dynamics and developing relationships. There is also some foreshadowing in this chapter as well, curious to see if anyone has picked it up?**

******Yeah and as for that marking ... it's still waiting for me, dammit. It's hard to discipline myself when all I want to do is write!**

**Thanks for reading!**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Thanks once again for all the amazing reviews last chapter! I'm quite overwhelmed by the amount of reviews and believe me they are VERY much appreciated. **

**Thanks also to guest reviewers, which I can't reply to, but I would like to express my many thanks all the same.**

**Somehow or another what should have been only one chapter on the Cottage has now ended up being three but this chapter is shorter than the last and it is definitely the last chapter spent at the Cottage! From there on out the action begins to build and there is a lot more angst.**

**This chapter is mostly from Merlin's and Arthur's point of view. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

_**Chapter Eight. The Cottage Part Three.**_

* * *

Merlin sat on the step leading up to the back porch. It was a chilly morning but he liked this time of the day the best. Just before sunrise, the mist in the air, the sky tinged with pink and gold hues. Beautiful and peaceful, the world suddenly stilled if only ever for a few minutes. He absently fiddled with the wooden carved dragon in his hand, liking the feel of the smooth wooden texture beneath his finger tips, his good luck charm. A totem of who he was _the last Dragonlord the last of his kind _and just how much he had also lost.

He never went anywhere without it.

He'd seen so much. Lived a long time and the craziness of his existence throughout time had been varied. He'd started as a simple village boy, a servant, adviser to the ruling Queen and King of Camelot before it fell.

He'd been the wild crazy man living in a cave with Aithusa, healing her disfigured joints, teaching her to talk, flying the night skies on her back. They were kin for a time, how long he didn't know. Time ceased to matter.

When he finally emerged from the cave it was to find a changed world. The Saxon's defeated by the Normans bringing a new reign and prosperity, built impressive castles, imposed a feudal system and carried out a census of the country. Something that remained to present day, even more impressive with its skyscrapers, fast cars, planes that flew in the air. The world kept getting bigger, busier, spreading outwards and consuming everything within its growth.

But there was always war, always sickness and always death. It seemed peace was never a lasting reality, as if such a thing could never be.

He had been a great many different things, historian, collector of artifacts even a doctor. He studied at Oxford University, an array of different occupations. He made many friends, touching lives along the way. There was always a need for him somewhere. As long as there was a purpose for his existence he could remain hopeful, optimistic. But the 20th century held so many changes; rapidly advancing technology saw a big shift in people's values and attitudes. The need and respect of older people diminished and he merely became invisible. Retiring to run a little antique shop and often wondering if the great Dragon had lied? Had those words t_ake heart, for when Albion's need is at its greatest, Arthur will rise again _been nothing more than a fable? Where was Arthur? It had been well over a thousand years.

Now, within just two days it felt as if his world had been restored, balanced out by the very first people he'd come to deeply care and love. He was once again the young man he had been. It was as if nothing had changed and yet everything had.

Arthur might not remember him but Merlin knew subconsciously he did by the oft comments he made _you're a riddle Emmett _along with the dream confirming it_. _Though Merlin knew it wasn't a dream but a memory even if Arthur couldn't see it as such yet.

Arthur was drawn to him. They instantly clicked just like old times. The connection _two sides of the same coin _still so true and it made him happy, content. Everything had come full circle. He had no idea what the future would bring but fate had a way of determining that their paths would cross and become linked once more.

This was just the beginning.

His gaze fell on the curved dragon in his hand, a lump forming in his throat. And it was about time.

Hearing the back door squeak open Merlin glanced over his shoulder to see Gwen approach.

"Thought I might find you out here," she spoke with a smile, sitting down next to him on the step.

"You're up early?"

"I couldn't sleep," she admitted, her eyes resting on the dragon in his hand.

"You're good luck charm," she continued.

Merlin enclosed the dragon in his hand.

"Why a dragon?" Gwen softly asked, curiosity lacing her voice.

"My father gave it to me."

He glanced at her, noting the surprise in her eyes _you had a father?_

"He didn't know I existed," he explained "when I learned that I had a father I found him." His voice broke off there.

After all this time that loss still hurt when it shouldn't, should it?

"What happened," Gwen inquired.

"He died but at least we did have some time together, even if brief, it was better than nothing."

Gwen's hand rested on his. Of course she once knew about his father. He had told her everything and even if she didn't remember the simple kind gesture still touched his heart.

There was silence. After a time Gwen removed her hand from his, clutching both of her hands together in her lap. Something was bothering her. He waited for her to speak about it, knowing she would eventually.

"Arthur kissed me," she finally blurted out.

Merlin turned to face her "and?"

She bit down on her lip.

"I kissed him back."

Merlin's initial astonishment led to a slow smile.

"So you like him now?"

"I don't know!" she muttered, burying her face in her hands. "Yes."

Her hands now brushing her hair back from her face and she looked decidedly pale.

"It's all so sudden and I-I've never felt this way before."

Well it was only a matter of time, Merlin mused. It seemed fate had determined that Gwen would be important in Arthur's life as well, once more. As it should be.

"What do I do?" she stressed.

He really didn't know. And the same went for him.

"Its early days, just wait and see how it unfolds I guess."

Gwen stared out across the green lawns.

"I'm sure it's just a one off thing," she continued as if trying to convince herself that's all it was. "So what if we kissed, it's nothing, we can just go our separate ways."

Until their paths met up again as Merlin knew they would.

"Is that what you want?" he asked her.

"I don't know what I want," she sighed, her shoulders slumping "I only know what I feel and it confuses me."

Silence lapsed and the first rays of golden sunlight crept over the hills.

"Why am I so drawn towards him?" Gwen spoke at length.

Merlin placed an arm around her shoulders and she leaned against him.

"It'll turn out alright."

"Ever the optimist," Gwen smiled "we should leave for home shortly after breakfast."

"Running away," he gently teased.

She turned her pretty face to his. "Yes, I think I am."

* * *

Arthur grimaced at his reflected image in the mirror that morning. He'd seen better days. His face bruised and his knee ached to all buggery. He was almost too embarrassed to face Gwen given his stupidity yesterday that resulted in him being thus injured.

Gwen, sweet, beautiful Gwen, feisty, knowing her own mind and yet she had the kindest heart.

He had never met another woman like her. His want, desire overwhelming any last shred of common sense he had but most of all it was this yearning in his heart, this need for her. It wasn't just any simple infatuation. He'd had plenty of those in his life time to know the difference. Gwen was something so much more, something integral to whom and what he was. And that just baffled him. How could she mean so much when he barely knew her? It didn't make sense. But then nothing had since being at the Cottage and yet the last few days were the happiest he could remember being in a long while, if ever. For once he felt strangely connected to other people; Emmett and Gwen.

Arthur remembered the feel of her fingers in his hair when he pretended to be asleep on the couch last night. Too afraid of letting her know he was awake in case she ran away, or chided him again about how stupid he was. So he just lay there, enjoying the feel of her touch, the scent of her perfume, the warmth that radiated from her skin. God help him. What the hell did he do now?

When would he see Gwen again? In normal circumstances they would go out on dates and build on a relationship but he would be based in Sandhurst and she would be in Birmingham and he was a bloody officer and she was not. And oh hell. That complicated things.

Why did his damn life have to be so complicated? And he didn't want to lose her now that he had found her.

* * *

Of course when he saw Gwen at the breakfast table he couldn't think of one word to say. It seemed every set of eyes were on him, making him feel suddenly awkward.

"That's some shiner there Princess," Gwaine spoke up.

He didn't want to talk about it and limped to the nearest chair as gracefully as he could, given his current predicament which didn't allow for it.

He leaned the crutches against the table, they slid to the ground.

Emmett picked them up, propping them against the table.

"Thanks," he muttered.

"You're welcome," Emmett returned, offering him a plate of toast.

He took the plate, chanced a glance at Gwen. Their eyes met, he saw the confusion in hers.

"You want some bacon Arthur?" Emmett offered.

"Yeah sure."

He quickly averted his gaze from Gwen's.

"Eggs?"

He nodded.

"Emmett mate if you keep feeding us like this none of us are going to fit into our clothes," Gwaine said, a big grin crossing his handsome face "if you weren't a man I'd marry you," he continued.

Arthur about choked on his toast at the mental image.

Merlin gave a half smile at the compliment. "Ah thanks Gwaine, I think."

"I'm sure it's not too long before some pretty young girl snares him up," Gwen added, exchanging a look with Morgana.

"She'll have to meet my approval," Gwaine stated, folding his arms.

"Oh and since when have you suddenly become Emmett's so called guardian," Morgana frowned.

Gwaine smiled "as of today, you alright with that Emmett?"

Emmett just nodded and grinned "sure" and sat down opposite him.

Arthur's eyes rested on the gangly kid. Yep, everybody loved Emmett. And what was it about him that attracted people? Was it because he was easy going, funny, cheeky but kind and thoughtful? There was just something different about him, something whole and something he couldn't quite understand.

Maybe he should talk to Emmett about Gwen. He knew her better than anyone else.

"It's so sad this is our last morning together," Morgana sighed "it's been the best fun, we should do it again sometime when we get the chance."

Arthur noticed the way her eyes rested of Emmett.

"I'm up for it," Gwaine agreed "but I don't think we have any free time till after we finish training at Sandhurst."

"Don't worry we will see each other again soon. It's my 21st Birthday in August and you all must come to it."

"That's four months away," Arthur murmured and did that mean waiting four months before he saw Gwen again? Four months was such a long time.

His eyes found hers, a question in their depths _what about us?_

"At your father's house?" Emmett asked Morgana, a worried frown denting his forehead.

"Don't worry about him," Morgana continued with a dismissive wave of her hand.

"You're father hates me," Gwen stated "he sees me as just some lowly working class citizen not good enough to be the friend of his daughter."

She glanced in his direction and the unspoken words hung between them _let alone entering a relationship with his son._

Arthur felt a sudden rush of injustice hit him. There were some things he just didn't understand about his father? And if he wanted to go out with Gwen he would and he didn't care what his father had to say about it.

"Yeah the old man hates my guts too," Gwaine interjected "doesn't stop me riling him," he grinned "and he's not so bad once he's had a few drinks, isn't that right Arthur?"

Arthur managed a smile, remembering Gwaine's many antics.

"Gwaine has a fondness for spiking his drinks."

Gwen laughed. And just like that Gwaine managed to diffuse the tension.

"Don't worry Gwen, I'll be there, I'll keep you entertained," Gwaine winked.

* * *

Getting around on crutches was a major pain in the ass, especially navigating the stairs. Arthur couldn't find Emmett anywhere and as a last result went to his bedroom.

He didn't bother knocking on the door, not expecting Emmett to be there. But Emmett was there, wearing only jeans on his skinny frame and Arthur wasn't sure what was most disturbing; how painfully thin he was or the many scars crisscrossing his back. Where the hell had those scars come from? It left an unsettled feeling in the pit of his stomach. As if it were at odds with the easy going young man he'd come to know, with his cheek and wit.

He didn't strike Arthur as the type to have suffered any pain. It's was just all wrong.

Emmett turned around, a startled look crossing his face.

"You don't believe in knocking," he exclaimed, quickly reaching for a shirt and pulling it on but not before Arthur saw what could only be a significant sized burn mark on his chest.

He must have been in some horrible accident at some stage of his life.

"I was looking for you, didn't really expect you to be here," his voice trailed off, feeling awkward.

Emmett was obviously embarrassed to be seen without wearing a top. Not that he blamed him but the guy could do with putting on some weight.

"You're so thin, don't you eat?" he remarked.

He wasn't about to mention the scars, none of his business and Emmett was clearly uncomfortable about it.

"Don't you stop eating," Emmett quipped, eyes resting on his waist line and raising his eyebrows.

Better to keep a lighthearted approach and well he deserved that.

Arthur said the first thing that came to mind.

"Are you saying I'm fat?" he exclaimed, not really offended, because well he wasn't fat "I'm fighting fight ..." he continued, pausing, had he said that before?

_We want to keep you that way _he almost expected Emmett to say.

Emmett merely grinned.

"For now, but at the rate you're going," Emmett shook his head "you want to keep impressing Gwen."

Right, Gwen, that was why he was here but now he felt sort of awkward. How did he talk about Gwen? What it was he felt for her to a complete stranger, who felt anything but and that was odd too.

What was it about the young man?

But Emmett knew Gwen better than anyone else why not talk to him, it made sense, that's all it was, he reasoned. It had nothing to do with some innate knowledge that Emmett was the one for good advice. He gripped his crutches tightly.

"I think she thinks I'm a total idiot after yesterday."

"I doubt it," Emmett replied, pulling a jacket on.

"I kissed her."

A grin twitched at the corners of Emmett's mouth.

"I know, she told me."

Arthur frowned. "Does she tell you everything?"

"Pretty much," Emmett nodded.

A conflicting array of thoughts crossed Arthur's mind. Emmett did say they were just friends, but they were obviously close if she told him everything and what had she told Emmett about him?

"Did she say anything about how she felt?" Arthur asked, taking a sudden interest in the hole on the carpet floor.

Emmett sat down on the edge of bed and began pulling a pair of socks on.

"She likes you," he said "but she's scared I think, confused, she said it was too sudden."

Arthur was surprised by Emmett's honest and straight forward answer.

"And you two don't have any feelings," he took a deep breath "you know, you're not attracted to her?"

Emmett shook his head and reached for his sneakers.

"It's not like that between us."

"But you share a house and you're so close and she tells you everything."

A thoughtful look crossed Emmett's face before he glanced up at him.

"Have you ever met someone and it's like you've known that person all of your life but you haven't," he murmured and began tying up his shoe laces, a faraway dreamy look in his eyes.

"Maybe if you believe in reincarnation you could almost say that you did know this person previously and they had impacted your life in a way that whilst you can't consciously remember them, subconsciously you do."

Arthur felt goose bumps pop out over his skin.

"That's ludicrous," he scoffed, rubbing his arms, and maybe not.

Because the young man sitting down on that bed, with his black hair, wide inquisitive blue eyes and gangly frame was someone he felt like he had known before. Again it left an unsettled feeling in the pit of his stomach. But as for living a previous life, that wasn't possible, he didn't believe it.

Emmett stood up and gave him a direct look. "It's just one way of explaining it."

"So that is what Gwen is to you?" he slowly asked.

Emmett nodded "yeah I think so."

Arthur ran a perplexed and unsettled hand up to the back of his neck, his crutch nearly falling to the ground, Emmett catching it in time.

"You should be resting that knee, not walking around," he chided, handing the crutch to him.

Arthur took hold of it.

"So what should I do about Gwen?" he asked "normally I would ask her out but this is hardly a normal situation with us both being in the Army, me an Officer, her a non-commissioned officer and none us knowing where we will be going or what we will be doing."

"I don't know that's up to you."

_I'm asking you, it's your job to answer me._

"What would you do if you were me?"

Damn, that was weird, a sudden sense of déjà vu hitting him and that's all it was, right? His eyes met with Emmett's.

He would know _he always did_.

"Why don't you take time to get to know each other first up, write letters or something?"

Arthur frowned. "No one writes letters anymore."

"Send text messages, or chat on line or whatever young people do these days."

Arthur's frowned increased. He said the oddest things.

"You know sometimes I just don't get you Emmett."

Emmett merely grinned.

"But exchanging mobile phone numbers is a start," Arthur continued, pulling his phone out of his pocket "so what's your number?"

"Why do you want my number for?" Emmett frowned.

"In case I want to ask you a question."

"I don't have one."

Arthur looked at him in disbelief.

"What, were you born in the dark ages or something?"

Emmett smiled, a hint of amusement in his eyes, like he knew something they all didn't.

"Don't answer that," Arthur grimaced, pointing a finger in his face "and I think it's about time you brought one, get with the times."

Emmett's smile widened. "Perhaps you're right. I can always get Gwen to teach me how to use one."

Arthur's frown intensified. "You've never had a mobile phone?"

Emmett shook his head.

"You really are a riddle Emmett."

"Yeah you've already said that."

"So what's Gwen's number."

"You should ask her, a good excuse to have a conversation with her," Emmett suggested.

Arthur put the phone back in his pocket, his eyes resting on Emmett. It was like he had just materialized out of thin air, a phantom from a lost bygone era. Who the hell didn't own a mobile phone?

"You think it's a lost cause, me and Gwen?"

"If it's meant to be it'll happen Arthur, maybe not straight away, maybe you might have to wait a couple of years but I think Gwen is worth the wait?"

Arthur eyes met his, and he was struck for a moment by the depth there, the open honest sincerity.

"If you love her that is," Emmett spoke softly, eyes questioning "do you love her?"

He really was someone Arthur had never encountered before.

"I think about her all of the time," his voice sounding hoarse in his ears.

A slow smile crossed Emmett's face.

"Well there's your answer."

For someone so young he was ... unusually astute.

* * *

Arthur nearly bumped into Gwen in the corridor just as she was exiting the bathroom. Least that saved him having to look for her but he stood there unsure of what to say to her now they were face to face.

His heart sped up at just the mere sight of her. She must have just washed her hair. It smelled of fresh flowers and curled in ringlets over her shoulders.

"How is the knee?" she asked breaking the silence.

"Okay, but it's a pain getting around on crutches."

He noticed the hint of colour in her cheeks, his nearness obviously having an effect over her. Unable to help himself he raised a hand and twirled one of those damp curls around his finger.

Raising a hand her fingers lightly touched the bruise on his cheek.

"Stupid," she chided but the warmth in her eyes said otherwise.

He tweaked her chin, giving a crooked smile.

"But you still like me?"

She bit down on her lip, raising her eyes to his. "Yes."

His thumb brushed over her lips. "You're pretty. I think it's the eyes. They are so warm and trusting. They make promises to a man."

"What sort of promises?" she asked in a husky voice.

"Promises of sweetness, of understanding."

"Are you asking me to be understanding Arthur?" her voice not more than a whisper.

"I'm as confused as you are Gwen by my feelings towards you," he admitted "but I know they are real."

She gave him a searching glance and he could see in her eyes that she felt the same way.

"Now that I've found you I don't want to let you go either," he continued, caressing her cheek.

She sighed and shook her head.

"Arthur," she breathed "this is hopeless."

"No," he quickly returned "no it's not, it doesn't have to be."

"When will we ever see each other?"

"How about we start with exchanging numbers," he began "if we both have a day off at the same time we can meet up somewhere?"

A smile twitched on her lips. "Maybe we can start with that."

Then much to his astonishment she leaned forward and kissed him. Her kiss was light, brief and filled with tenderness. His hand swept through her damp hair.

She snuggled into him, resting her head on his shoulder, rubbing her hand lightly against his chest. He kissed the top of her head, her soft curls tickling his nose. His arms slipping around her and his crutches fell to the ground.

They stood there like that, not saying anything, his heart racing, hardly able to believe what was happening. She was so spontaneous.

"Now isn't this romantic," Gwaine's voice quipped from behind.

Both he and Gwen abruptly pulled apart.

Gwaine just gave them a knowing smirk. "Don't worry you're secret is safe with me," he said and walked on.

Gwen and Arthur exchanged a shy glance. He let out a nervous laugh.

"We can trust him," he said, raking a hand through his hair.

He noticed the amused smile on Gwen's lips.

"What?"

Reaching up a hand she flattened his hair. Enjoying the touch of her fingers he fought the urge to kiss her passionately. He didn't want to freak her out. They should take this slowly, like Emmett advised. That then got him thinking about the young man and the scars he saw on his back and chest.

"Was Emmett in some kind of accident as a kid?" he asked.

Gwen frowned slightly, looking baffled.

"Not that I know of, why do you ask?"

"Just this morning I walked into his bedroom to talk to him, ask about you actually," he quickly smiled, the smile replaced with a frown "he wasn't wearing a top and he had these scars on his back and chest."

"I've never seen him without a top on," she said slowly, thoughtfully "and he seldom talks about his past but he did mention he had a father and his father had died, maybe they were in an accident together?"

"He didn't say how his father had died?"

Gwen shook her head, a sudden sadness in the depths of her eyes. "No, that's Emmett for you, but sometimes I get the feeling there was great sorrow in his past."

Was he past that bad that he couldn't talk about it? Again it was completely at odds with the young man he had gotten to know these last couple of days.

"I do most of the talking and he just listens," she sighed "he's a good listener."

Arthur ran a hand up the back of his neck. Yeah the kid was a good listener.

"He's painfully skinny," he began, glancing at her "you need to fatten him up a bit."

"I've been trying!" she exclaimed "an impossible task believe me, I think he just has hollow legs," she continued and then a soft smile crossed her face "you care about him?"

_Of course not_ he was about to scoff, but that would be a lie and for the life of him he couldn't comprehend why Emmett should matter to him? He hardly knew the young man.

"There's just something about him," he murmured.

Gwen's eyes widened in surprised. "You feel it too?"

_Have you ever met someone and it's like you've known that person all of your life_ Emmett's words _maybe they had impacted your life in a past lifetime in a way that whilst you can't consciously remember them, subconsciously you do. _

Nah, not possible, it was just a coincidence. But he numbly nodded to Gwen.

* * *

Merlin placed his small travel bag by the front door. Where was everyone? A cold draft swept through the hallway and he pulled his jacket tightly together, shivering.

_You're so thin, don't you eat _but Merlin hadn't missed seeing the shock evident in Arthur's eyes when he saw the scars on his back. Thankfully he didn't ask about them because Merlin wouldn't have even known how to answer. Just scars that had accumulated with having lived for so long, mostly from old battles with evil sorcerers and yeah he could just imagine explaining that to Arthur.

Arthur who had no recollection of that time but still came to him for advice, just like old and Merlin swallowed the lump in his throat. When the time was right Arthur would remember him, he was sure of that but when would be the right time?

He rubbed his arms.

"Are you okay Emmett?"

Turning quickly he saw Morgana approach him.

He nodded. "I'm fine, just cold."

"You need to put some weight on," she gently chided "for insulation."

How many times was he going to hear it today? She stopped directly in front of him, her face only inches from his.

"Well I'll make sure I never go to Antarctica, I'd be a goner there," he quipped.

She smiled, her eyes searching his and he swallowed. He felt nervous. It was odd now being liked by someone that had only tried to kill him several times over. But he sought only to remember the good times. Times when she'd risked all to save the Druid boy, the times when her heart had been kind and pure.

"I guess this is goodbye," he continued.

"Only for now," she returned "you must promise that you'll come to my 21st."

"You're father sounds like an intimidating man."

The smile quickly left her face, was replaced with a look he remembered only too well; total disdain.

It saddened his heart. Something's hadn't changed.

"I hate him," she hissed, confirming his worst fears.

Merlin shook his head, gently placed his hands on her shoulders, gazed into her eyes, heart heavy.

"Hate is a powerful emotion Morgana," he murmured in a warning tone "don't let it in."

He saw the sudden bewilderment in her eyes _I blame myself for what you've become. _He still lived with the guilt. _If only I'd been honest, told you truth before Morgause changed you. _Too many what if's he inwardly sighed and then there was the dragon, his destiny, fate. No way could they make the same mistakes.

"Please," he whispered in a desperate voice.

His fingers lightly squeezed her shoulders and her face softened, her hands cupping his face.

"I'm not about to murder him," she lightly returned with a low chuckle "though sometimes I feel like it."

_But you did once before. _ He forced a smile to his lips.

"I just want you to remain the same."

"You really are very sweet," she spoke softly and brushed her lips against his, surprising Merlin.

"Don't you ever change either Emmett," she murmured in his ear.

"I won't."

He hadn't, not in over a thousand years _I don't want you to change. I want you ... to always ... be you_ some of Arthur's final words. He had never forgotten them. They still pained him, even to this day. _I'll never change Arthur._

* * *

Merlin watched the passing glance Arthur gave Gwen when they were about to leave. Yeah they had it bad and he smiled to himself, funny how fate went.

"Till the next time, hey," Gwaine said to him, giving him a pat on the back "I don't know what it is about you Emmett but I like you, you have a good heart."

"So do you," Merlin returned.

"I don't know about that," Gwaine returned, but Merlin did.

'_I never stay in one place for very long. People get sick of me too quickly.'_

'_I didn't.'_

'_After the trouble I caused?'_

'_You've livened the place up.'_

'_Make sure you look after Arthur. He's in danger.'_

'_I thought you hated nobles?'_

'_Hey, well ... maybe that one's worth dying for, eh?'_

Gwaine hadn't changed. It warmed Merlin's heart in ways he couldn't express and well Gwaine had died trying to protect him and Arthur_._

It had been too much to learn that Gwaine was dead, after Merlin returned from Lake Avalon, still grieving, heart torn asunder by Arthur's death and now this. How much more could his heart take; the ugly cost of war. It stole everything that was precious and Merlin knew his heart would never recover. It would never be the same. How could it?

He quickly pushed the memory away, now wasn't the time for it. No need to go there.

His eyes scanned over the small group assembled in the driveway, Arthur, Gwaine, Morgana and Gwen and it was as it should be.

The past didn't matter now.

He was the only one to remember it.

And this wasn't goodbye.

This really was just the beginning of a new era.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed it, please let me know! Reviews are precious! As always tell me what parts you liked the most. I know some reviewers have asked me about who Merlin should end up with i.e. Morgana and/or Freya. I haven't determined anything romantically for Merlin yet so feel free to tell me what you would like to happen in this way. **


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: The response in the way of reviews these last three chapters has been amazing and you can't even begin to imagine how much that inspires me! I thank you all VERY much!**

**This chapter is ridiculously long again! I had thought of breaking into two chapters but I felt it disrupted with the flow and so I left it as one long chapter.**

**Lot's of angst, not of the physical kind but more of the emotional kind, hence the title.**

**Sorry to say the upload of the next chapter may take a week or longer as I am running a Year 12 Media Camp this weekend, that's where students get the chance to work on the production side of their short films. Lot's of fun but exhausting.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

_**Chapter Nine. Matters of the Heart**_

* * *

Gwen only managed to see Arthur a total of five times during the four months leading up to Morgana's 21st birthday. She had cherished there short lived moments together. They generally met at a halfway point in Cotswolds. Arthur liked that place the best, full of ancient, picturesque towns and villages.

It was steeped in history. Each time they met up they visited a different village. On their fifth visit, and their last, they went to Sudeley castle. It was one of those clear warm sunny days, being late July.

Gwen always experienced an eager anticipation when she was about to see Arthur. She would spend ages fussing over her hair, what clothes to wear, much to Emmett's amusement.

"_I'm sure Arthur won't care," he'd tease "he loves you any which way."_

"_He doesn't love me," she'd retort._

_Emmett would just grin. "Yeah he does."_

"_Well he's never told me that."_

"_He will, I guess he doesn't want to rush things."_

Love, was a scary thought and she couldn't even call it a proper relationship given the few times they were able to see each other but they were the most memorable days of her life. Everything just felt right when she was with Arthur but love, she didn't know about that?

They talked, laughed and teased each other when they were not making out. When he kissed her it was easy to believe that he adored her. He made her feel like she was special, precious to him.

But when she was alone Gwen wasn't sure if this would last. Sometimes there was a nagging thought in the back of the mind, an innate knowing that this relationship, in its infantile stages, was still fragile.

Gwen took it one day at a time because really that was all she could do and to allow herself to fall in love with him and risk her heart ... it was too soon. She was afraid. So many things could go wrong. It was a complicated situation. His father would hate her and bound to cause problems. His training at Sandhurst was nearly over and it was highly possible he'd be sent on a tour of duty in Afghanistan. Then she probably wouldn't see him for about six months. He could meet someone else in that time. So could she. Better to just live for the moment and make the most of the short time they had together.

As always he kissed her passionately when they met. Her heart leaped into her throat. What this man made her feel both scared yet also exhilarated her at the same time.

She'd cling to him, her eyes drinking in the sight of him, cupping his face in her hands, feeling his lips on hers.

"You are driving me crazy," he'd murmur in her hair.

Things would become heated and passionate and then they would both reluctantly pull back not risking going too far just yet. Still early days and Arthur was surprisingly chivalrous.

"When it happens it's because we're both ready for it," he'd say making her toes curl with the warmth in his eyes.

A lot of men in her experience just wanted sex and pushed for it and Arthur wanted to wait?

"That is so old fashioned of you," she'd tease him but he was right.

They both needed to be ready for it and they had only seen each other a total of five times, so keeping their passion and desire in check they strolled through the castle and the beautiful gardens chatting.

"I didn't know you were a history buff," she lightly teased him, as they walked hand in hand through the orchid.

"I don't like studying it but I do like visiting old places," he confessed "though I've never figured out why?"

"Funny but so do I," she smiled at him.

Finding a quiet spot, worn out from walking so much they lay back on the grass staring up at the blue sky, watching wisps of clouds drift by.

"Sometimes I have dreams," Arthur murmured lazily beside her.

"What about?"

He rolled over to face her. "You," he smiled, brushing a strand of her hair away from her face.

She gave him a skeptical look. "Really?"

"Sometimes you are in them, but it's weird, like I'm dreaming about a time in the past."

Curiosity crossed Gwen's face.

"I'm fighting battles with a sword, quite often Gwaine is with me and a gangly young man that looks like Emmett."

"Well that makes sense, you know these people in real life."

"In the dream I don't call him Emmett," Arthur continued, perplexed.

"What do you call him?"

"Merlin."

A funny puzzled look stole over Gwen's face. "That name ..." she began, pausing, a distant look in her eyes before they began to mist over.

Arthur's heart beat loudly in his ears at the tears now forming there.

"Gwen?"

A silent tear trickled down her cheek. She was beginning to freak him out.

"Why are you crying?"

"I am," she murmured, raising a hand to brush the tears away and then glancing down at her hand, baffled. "I-I don't know."

Slowly she sat up, shivered and rubbed her arms and Arthur continued to stare at her confused. What was that all about? It made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

"I can't explain it," she stammered "it's just a feeling."

He also sat up, a sudden wave of dizziness hitting him. He shook his head to clear it.

"What sort of feeling?"

"Happy but also sad, like something that was lost," she whispered, pushing her hair back from her face.

She was still freaking him out and they lapsed into a moment's silence.

No more talk of dreams.

He needed to change the subject.

"So how is the medical training coming along?"

She slowly turned to face him, a frown denting her smooth forehead at the sudden change of direction in the conversation.

"I, um, good," she replied "I love it," she continued.

He was relieved to see the sadness leave her eyes as she managed to compose herself.

"I can't wait to be working in a real military field hospital, hopefully at Camp Bastion, that would be an experience."

Did she really want to go there? Why?

"You might not like what you see," he began "a lot of soldiers are killed and injured by IED road side bombs and I can't imagine that being pretty."

She glanced at him, her gaze open and frank. "But maybe I can make a difference too, even if it's only to offer comfort."

His eyes rested on her face. She really was special. He could almost imagine her as some sort of Florence Nightingale.

Raising a hand he caressed her cheek. "You really are something else," he murmured.

She smiled warmly, lowering her eyes as if embarrassed by his words. She really needed to learn to take a compliment, he mused.

"And what about Emmett?" he continued "does he have the same dream?"

"I think Emmett will just go wherever I go."

_Naturally _the boy was unwavering loyal. He frowned. Not that he would know and yet he did. In his dreams he was always by his side and further more he liked it that way. But the dreams left him feeling unsettled. Emmett and Merlin were the same but not, they couldn't be and it made no sense.

Gwen's reaction to the name had unsettled him even further. A sharp sudden pain filled his head and he quickly pushed the thought away. Whatever it was he didn't want to know.

"He knows so much for someone that young," Gwen spoke, breaking into his train of thought "his medical knowledge is expansive, he's incredibly intelligent though appears not to be."

_Sometimes you puzzle me._

_You never fathomed me out._

_No._

He quickly began plucking the grass out of the ground as a means of distraction, pushing the words out of his mind but they had a way of haunting him.

"Do you believe in reincarnation Gwen?"

She wrapped her arms around her drawn up knees, a thoughtful look crossing her pretty face.

"I don't know, do you?"

"I never used to," he admitted, tugging harder at the grass.

"But?" she prompted.

"Just lately ... with the dreams and I don't know," he paused and ran a hand through his hair, gazing out across the gardens.

He couldn't find the right words to explain it.

His stomach let out a low grumble. Gwen smiled.

"C'mon," she said getting to her feet "think that's our cue to get something to eat."

He didn't feel like eating, what he felt like was kissing her till there was no rational thought left in his head. That way he could forget everything, weird dreams and uncertain futures.

She held her hand out to him and he took it, allowing her to pull him to his feet but he wasn't about to let her escape so easily. Pulling her into his arms he lowered his lips to hers in a gentle lingering kiss that proceeded to deepen. As always she responded with equal need and passion. His hands brushed through her hair that fell loosely around her shoulders. He began trailing kisses down the side of her neck and shoulder. Her hands fluttered against his chest, before gliding up to his neck, cupping either side of his face, her thumbs brushing his cheeks. His lips found hers again, pulling her closer as if he couldn't get enough.

Then, a low moan escaping his throat, his mouth crushed hers with an intensity that made Gwen's heart thud wildly in her chest.

Never had another man kissed her as thoroughly as he did. Never had it ever felt this amazing. This is how it should be. This is how it _used to be _and her heart felt ready to explode with the intensity of her feelings for him. This, them, here and now as if it had all happened before and she ploughed her hands through his hair, wanting to feel closer, wanting to taste him, wanting _him._

"Gwen," he murmured breaking the kiss, "tell me you feel that too."

She gazed into his eyes, mesmerised by the deep intensity and confusion mirrored there.

"Tell me I'm not imagining this?"

"I-I ..." words failed her because there was something there, like a half memory she couldn't quite grasp and is that what he meant? Or was he referring to the sweet intensity of that kiss mingled with need and want and forgotten desire and love and she couldn't explain it.

"I felt it too."

The sudden warmth and relief in his eyes was nearly her undoing. Careful, she warned herself, this was a man she couldn't afford to fall in love with.

Gwen bit down on her lip as sudden realization dawned. It was too late. She had totally and already completely fallen in love with him.

* * *

Gwen, Merlin noticed, was not focused the next day. She was often like that after seeing Arthur but for some reason she was even worse on this particular day.

"It must have been something else," he quipped to her as they disinfected another hospital bed.

"Hmm, what?" she finally replied, turning a distracted gaze to his.

"You and Arthur?"

She closed her eyes and shook her head.

"I've done something stupid," she let out with a deep sigh.

"I find that hard to believe?"

Her eyes opened and she looked directly at him, her cheeks colouring.

"I've fallen in love with him."

Merlin frowned. "How's that stupid?"

"Because it wasn't meant to happen," she returned and hastily began continued wiping the mattress.

She did seem really tense and it puzzled him.

"I'm sure it'll be fine."

"I hope you're right," she sighed "but I just have a bad feeling about it."

Why? If she didn't remember the past, and well yeah her and Arthur had some very troubled times, then it shouldn't matter. Unless she did remember something or maybe it was just that subconscious thing again?

"Arthur loves you."

"How do you know?"

_Merlin, if anything should happen to me look after Gwen. The world may think she is just a servant, dispensable, but ... she's not dispensable to me._

"I just do," he murmured.

* * *

Morgana knew she looked stunning. The dress was perfect, not overly sexy but demure enough.

She could hardly believe her birthday was finally here.

Emmett would be coming, Gwen had texted her so. Though, quite often her feelings towards Emmett worried her. He was sweet but he wasn't interested in her, least not in that way.

And she couldn't understand why? Men worshiped the ground she walked on and she could have any man she wanted. Except Emmett and is that why he intrigued her? That and a number of other things about his sweet disposition.

Maybe tonight things might change?

Giving her reflected image one last satisfied look in the mirror she turned away and made her way downstairs to the hall.

Her father had gone all out to decorate the entertaining hall for her 21st birthday and no doubt inviting all of his so called elitist friends so he could show her off. The whole thing left a disdainful taste in her mouth.

When she had told him that Gwen would be coming with a friend he hadn't said anything but he didn't need to. She could tell by the sudden, even if brief, displeasure in his eyes that he wasn't pleased. Not that she cared. Her feelings for her father, once she found out the truth what he had done to her mother, had long since turned to hate.

* * *

Arthur was the first person she found in the hall. He was leaning against a pillar, looking pensive.

"Penny for your thoughts," she murmured in his ear.

He turned suddenly, obviously not hearing her approach.

"You sure you want to know them," he returned.

She raised an eyebrow. "No doubt they are of Gwen."

He frowned.

"Don't worry you're secret is safe with me," she continued with a smile.

_For now_ that was, if all went according to plan Uther was in for a rather rude shock tonight concerning his son.

"You're looking handsome for a change," she continued, taking in his tailored black pants and navy blue shirt.

"Is that a Ralph Lauren shirt?"

"Yeah, so."

"It's nice, that colour suits you."

He frowned again, looking wary.

"What do you want Morgana?"

"What makes you think I want anything?"

"You never give me compliments."

She smiled. "I'm feeling generous, it's my birthday."

Then she did the most unexpected thing and kissed him on the cheek. He looked at her surprised.

"What was that for?"

She shook her head and a look he couldn't even begin to read crossed her face.

"Just don't be too cross with me later," she murmured.

Why would he be?

"Oh look Gwen and Emmett are finally here," she exclaimed, a radiant happy smile crossing her face.

He glanced in the direction of Morgana's gaze. Sure enough Gwen had walked through the double doors and she had never looked more beautiful.

His mouth dropped partially open. She was wearing a red dress, that snugly hugged her body and stopping just above her knees. Since when did she have such an amazing figure? Curves in all the right places and her hair, straighter than usual, but soft loose curls flowed halfway down her back, held back by a diamond studied hair clip.

"You're drooling Arthur," Morgana quipped in an amused voice and he quickly shut his mouth.

He watched Morgana go to greet Gwen and stood rooted to the spot. Not like he could go up and hug her as freely as Morgana could. His eyes quickly searched for his father, who was in conversation with the Mayor before returning to Gwen and Morgana.

Morgana was now hugging Emmett.

Gwen's eyes rested on him and he smiled at her. Her lovely returning smile sending his heart rate skyrocketing.

Damn.

He shoved his hands nervously in his pockets as they approached him. Up close she was even more beautiful and he longed to touch her.

"Hi Gwen," he spoke.

"Hello Arthur," she returned and they exchanged a knowing look.

"Good to see you again," she continued her eyes twinkling.

"You too."

"C'mon Gwen, there are some people I want you to meet," Morgana interrupted, dragging Gwen away and his eyes fell on Emmett.

He stood there awkwardly, looking out of place. At least he was dressed for the occasion, wearing black trousers, a white shirt with a dark green jacket. His arms were folded tightly in front of him.

"It won't be that bad," Arthur reassured.

Emmett shook his head "just not my thing."

"You need a drink," he suggested, feeling a tad sorry for him "I'll get you one."

"You," Emmett began "getting me a drink?" As if he found that amazing as well as amusing.

"I'd be a bad host if I didn't," he replied and glanced around for a drink waiter.

He indicated to the waiter and the waiter moved in their direction.

"Me and alcohol don't really mix," Emmett said as the waiter approached "it goes to my head too quickly."

"That's because you're too skinny, you need to bulk up."

"Like you," Emmett quipped.

Arthur's hands rested on his hips and his eyes narrowed. He'd forgotten the boy's cheek.

"Yeah like me."

Not that he minded, kind of liked it actually.

He addressed the waiter. "The gangly young kid here will have a lemonade and I'll have a scotch on the rocks," he glanced at Emmett, and grinned "a real man's drink."

"Real man," Emmett scoffed.

The waiter bowed and moved away to fetch their drinks.

"Admit you're just nervous about seeing Gwen again and you need it for Dutch courage," he continued cheekily.

He was uncannily spot on and how did he know that?

"Emmett," he began.

"I know, shut up."

"You got it."

* * *

How long before he could finally get Gwen alone? Gwaine was prattling on in his ear and Emmett's, Emmett looking amused by Gwaine's antidotes.

"A bit distracted there Princess?" Gwaine chirped.

He noticed the sly exchange Gwaine and Emmett shared and rolled his eyes.

"I must admit she's looking exceptionally lovely tonight," Gwaine continued "you should just go up to her and kiss her and to hell with what your old man says."

"It's not that simple," he muttered.

He didn't want to subject Gwen to his father's wrath. And only he knew from a firsthand account just how ruthless his father could be.

* * *

It was approaching ten at night by the time Arthur had a chance to corner Gwen.

"Meet me out on the balcony," he murmured to her.

She gave a quick smile and nodded.

Arthur made his way out on to the balcony. Thankfully no one else was out there and patiently waited for her to arrive.

He didn't have long to wait. She slipped through the glass French door.

He went quickly to her, pulling her into his arms.

"You don't know how much I've wanted to do this," he murmured in her hair before pulling back to look at her.

His fingers brushed against the smoothness of her cheek. She blushed and smiled so warmly it felt his heart would burst.

"You look beautiful tonight."

"So do you."

He grinned amused at her words.

"I mean handsome," she quickly amended, giving a short embarrassed laugh.

God he loved her. Leaning forward he captured her full sensual lips with his.

* * *

Morgana watched Arthur disappear out onto the balcony, followed shortly be Gwen.

She smiled to herself and went in search of her father. Finding him engaged in conversation with some big corporate bigwig.

"Father," she began, weaving her arm through his, and waited patiently for the introductions to be over.

"I've hardly seen you all night," she continued, once they were alone.

"Are you having a good night?" he asked, patting her arm.

"I am, it's wonderful but I would like to chat with you."

"Anything for you Morgana," he smiled down at her like the indulgent parent he wasn't.

"Let's go out onto the balcony," she suggested "it's so much quieter out there."

It couldn't have gone more perfect as they walked out onto the balcony.

Gwen and Arthur were locked in a passionate kiss and she felt her father automatically stiffen next to her.

Both Gwen and Arthur abruptly pulled apart and Arthur stared at his father, shocked.

* * *

Arthur clutched Gwen's hand in his, his face determined and waiting for what his father would throw at him.

There was a deadly silence before Uther finally exploded.

"What were you thinking?!" he roared.

Whatever his father had to say to him, Gwen needn't be subjected to it. Turning to face her, he saw the panic stricken look in her eyes.

"Go inside, I'll handle my father," he murmured to her, touching her arm "it'll be okay."

She nodded and made a hasty retreat.

"I'll look after her," Morgana offered, following after Gwen.

His eyes narrowed, why had Morgana walked out on to the balcony with their father? But he had no time to ponder the thought and turned to face his father's glare.

"I don't understand you," his father muttered angrily and began pacing "you can have any beautiful rich woman you want and I find you kissing that ..." his father pointed in the direction Gwen had left "that girl, who is nothing but a commoner!"

He bit back the retort he wanted to say. Gwen wasn't common! He could feel his own temper rising, fought to keep it in check.

His father resuming pacing, as he did when angry and Arthur waited with something akin to dread as to what he'd say and do next.

"I won't you to stop this relationship now!"

It was as expected and he felt his blood boil. This was his life, not his fathers.

"No! I love her." Damn but he hadn't meant to say that.

His father went still and his eyes hardened.

"You what?"

Arthur swallowed, but he refused to back down. "You heard me."

His father turned abruptly away with disdain as if he couldn't even bring himself to look at him.

"You cannot be with this girl, I forbid it," he said at length with his back facing him.

"You can't, this is my life."

His father turned to face him, his whole body rigid.

"You are heir to the wealthiest industry in Britain!" his father continued in a quietly menacing tone of voice "I didn't work so hard to build this industry for you to do as you please."

Arthur swallowed but forced himself to meet his father's glare.

"This isn't about doing what I please," he began and his voice shook slightly "but what I feel."

"What would you know about it," his father scoffed "you're only 22, what would you know about matters of the heart?"

Arthur didn't say anything, what was the point. His father would just have to get over it. He wasn't giving up Gwen.

Uther took a few steps towards the French door, staring into the hall. Arthur waited for whatever he'd say next. The silence stretched out, almost becoming unbearable.

"You know who that man is?" his father finally spoke.

Arthur reluctantly took the few steps to where his father stood and looked in the direction he pointed.

"That is the General Sarum, the highest ranking Officer in the British Army."

"I know."

His father turned to him, a cold calculating look in his eyes.

"If you continue with this relationship I'll make sure her time within the Army is short lived."

Arthur froze. "What?"

He couldn't do that ... could he? Arthur's eyes fell on the General and his heart sank. Yes he could.

"You know I have that power Arthur, can you imagine her living with the shame of being dishonorably discharged? What that would do to her?"

Arthur raised his eyes to his father with horror, Gwen, dishonorably discharged.

"Y-You wouldn't," his voice trailed off.

It was exactly the sort of cruel thing his father would do. And Gwen loved her job. He knew how much it meant to her, her dreams of working in a field hospital. She would be devastated.

"It'll taint the rest of her working life, like a stain that can't be removed," his father continued "not to mention what it would do to her self worth."

Arthur swallowed the sudden giant sized lump in his throat. His vision blurred.

"You want to be responsible for that?"

Arthur screwed his eyes shut and clenched his hands into fists. How could his father do this to him!

"It's called sacrifice Arthur," he murmured "just as I sacrificed everything for this company and you, you need to learn what that is."

Hate hit him deep in the pit of his gut, hate towards his father for putting him in this position.

"You will end this relationship."

"Yes," he muttered through gritted teeth and looked away from the smug satisfaction on his father's face.

"One day you'll thank me," his father continued, patting him on the shoulder.

One day when hell freezes over. "No I won't," he returned fiercely, glaring at his father "I'll never forgive you."

* * *

Merlin had been observing everything from the sidelines. He saw Arthur and Gwen disappear out onto the balcony.

He joked with Gwaine about it. "There they go."

"Lucky man, wish it were me," Gwaine sighed.

"Not enough pretty women here tonight to catch your fancy?" Merlin quipped to him.

But Gwaine seemed to prefer to hang out with him, much to Merlin's amusement and not as if he minded. It was almost like old times.

Gwaine kept trying to talk him into having one drink.

"C'mon mate, you need to toughen up."

Merlin retorted with "how is it going to make me tougher?"

That's when he spied Morgana, arm in arm with Uther, heading for the balcony doors.

What was she doing? If she hated her father why was she now walking arm in arm with him? And why was she leading him outside to the balcony, the very same balcony Gwen and Arthur where on and doing who knows what?

He froze as a sinking realization dawned on him. She was doing what she always had done, causing trouble.

By the time Merlin came to his senses, Morgana and Uther had already walked through the balcony doors and it was too late for him to do anything about it.

Merlin raked a hand through his hair as an impending sense of doom hit; history repeating itself.

Nah, it couldn't, could it? Maybe nothing would happen, maybe Arthur and Gwen were just chatting and Uther wouldn't suspect anything and maybe ... the balcony doors opened and Gwen walked out, looking distressed, Morgana in tow, putting a comforting arm around her shoulders.

And maybe everything went wrong and his heart sank.

What have you done Morgana? Why, why, why?

But he already knew in his heart, anything to anger her father because she hated him so much and if that meant causing conflict between Uther and Arthur then so be it.

Let the chips fall where they may and Merlin continued to stare at those balcony doors, where Arthur was no doubt, receiving the wrath of his father.

"What's going on?" he heard Gwaine ask beside him.

"I think Uther has just found out about Arthur and Gwen," he slowly returned.

Gwaine shrugged and patted Merlin's shoulder.

"Arthur's a grown lad, about time he stood up to his old man."

Why didn't Merlin feel reassured by that?

The balcony door banged open and Arthur stormed out, looking like thunder itself but Merlin saw the raw emotional pain in his eyes. This wasn't good.

"Arthur!" Gwaine called.

Arthur ignored him, walked quickly through the hall, disappearing up a flight of stairs.

"He needs a drink," Gwaine began "I'll get him one."

Merlin stopped him. "I think he needs to be left alone."

* * *

Once Merlin had freed himself from Gwaine's clutches, after pushing Gwaine in the path of a beautiful young looking blonde, he went in search of Gwen.

Some night had this turned out to be!

He found Gwen in the den with Morgana comforting her and stopped just outside the door.

"But will Arthur be alright," he heard Gwen murmur worriedly "I feel so awful."

"Don't worry father's bark is worse than his bite."

Merlin shook his head at her words. Did she really believe that?

"I'll go get us a drink," Morgana continued "you wait here, I'm sure Arthur will be along soon."

Merlin quickly stepped back into the shadows as Morgana walked through the doorway and headed towards the kitchen.

He followed after her, till they were safely out of earshot from Gwen.

"Why did you do it Morgana?" he softly called.

She spun around startled, her eyes widening at the sight of him.

"What do you mean?" she gasped.

He took the few steps towards her.

"I saw you, I saw you lead your father out onto the balcony."

Her face softened. "He's my father and he wanted to talk with me."

"You hate him."

Her composure slipped slightly.

"You knew Gwen and Arthur were out there," he continued in a leveled voice "you wanted your father to see them."

"So what if I did," she suddenly snapped "it's about time Arthur stood up to Uther."

Merlin didn't believe that was her only motivating reason.

"You want to cause conflict between them?"

Her shoulders stiffened, she held her head high. "Yes and is that so very wrong?"

He gazed sadly into her eyes. Yes it was, couldn't she see that?

"Why do you hate him so much?"

She turned on him suddenly and he barely had time to step back.

"You don't know what he did," she said through clenched teeth "six months after Arthur was born and Uther, supposedly in his grief from losing his wife, had a one night stand with my mother."

Her normally beautiful face now laced with such a deep pain, a pain mixed with sorrow and rage.

"My mother fell pregnant with me and went to him for help," she continued in a strained voice "she was suffering from a mental illness but instead of helping as he should have he had her committed to a mental institution and kept me."

Merlin didn't know what to say, what could he say to something like that and now he understood her hatred.

"I didn't even know she existed," tears pooled in her eyes "he told me my mother had died, he lied!"

For a moment all fight left her body, and her shoulder's slumped. She looked so miserable and dejected and Merlin's heart went out to her.

"How did you find out?" he softly asked.

She brushed a hand across her face as a tear trickled down her cheeks.

"She wrote me a letter when I was 14," her voice not more than a whisper "I went to see her in that mental institution ..." her voice broke off there as if the pain of that moment was too much.

"Morgana," he murmured, gently placing a hand on her shoulder, her sad story disturbing him.

"When I arrived there, I found out that she had already killed herself."

He listened horrified. Uther had so much to answer for, maybe just as much in this lifetime as in that previous one.

"I-I'm sorry," he murmured.

Morgana straightened up, her eyes met his and he could see the wounded vulnerability in their depths.

"The whole damn world is sorry Emmett," she spoke sadly "it still doesn't change what has happened."

His hand fell do his side. No it didn't.

"You want me to forgive him?" she began, his eyes dark pools of hurt and bewilderment "I can't," she whispered.

Merlin swallowed.

"You can think what you want of me Emmett," she stammered and before he had a chance to answer she quickly turned and ran down the length of the corridor.

He fell back against the wall, shutting his eyes. She was hurting, Arthur was hurting, Gwen too and there was nothing he could do about it.

Morgana's words, the horribleness of what had happened to her mother, and how did someone get over that sort of betrayal?

He could now understand her hatred for Uther but that still didn't make it right because it was eating away at her on the inside and until she let it go she would always be enslaved by it.

It would slowly destroy her.

* * *

Gwen paced the floor in the den, wringing her hands anxiously together. What was taking Morgana so long? Where was Arthur? Was he alright? Uther had looked so intimidating that Gwen shuddered to think what he would do.

Tears pricked the back of her eyes. This night had turned out so horribly wrong. Hearing the door open and expecting it to be Morgana she was greatly relieved to see Emmett standing there.

"You alright?" he asked and she flew into his arms.

He held her tightly and patted her back.

"It was horrible," she murmured "I've never seen someone look as angry as Uther did."

"He didn't say anything to you?" Emmett quickly asked sounding worried.

"No."

He pulled back, placing a hand on her shoulder as he looked down searchingly into her face.

"Are you sure?"

She nodded. "Arthur told me to go, said he would deal with him."

Gwen noticed the disturbed look on Emmett's face.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

He shook his head but his eyes were sad.

"Is it Arthur?"

"No, just something Morgana told me, it has nothing to do with Arthur," he quickly explained.

Gwen was about to ask Emmett what Morgana had told him when there was a knock on the door.

She turned her head to see Arthur standing in the doorway. Her eyes rested on his face but his expression was unreadable.

"Do you mind if I talk to Gwen alone," he spoke.

Emmett nodded. "Sure." And went to leave, Gwen suddenly wanted to hold onto him _don't go._

But Emmett left the room, Arthur closed the door behind him and she stood there rooted to the spot, her heart fluttering with uncertainty. The expression on his face doing nothing to reassure her everything was alright.

He leaned against the door as if for support and the silence stretched out and what was wrong with him? Why wasn't he saying anything?

"Arthur," she prompted; heart heavy, this couldn't be good.

He glanced her way, straightened up and walked slowly towards her, his expression still unreadable.

"I've been thinking Gwen," he began "that you and I are not going to work out," he continued bluntly, his voice flat.

What ... what was he saying and why? Her gaze flew up to his.

"What did your father say to you?" she asked slowly, struggling to suppress the tremor in her voice.

His eyes refused to meet hers.

"He said a lot of things I guess," he spoke, his words carefully measured "I listened and I came to the conclusion that he was right."

His words hurt.

"It was just a fling Gwen and we had a nice time ..."

"Nice," she spat out.

She couldn't believe he was saying this. Was he for real? Why was he acting this way?

His expression darkened a little. "That's all it was Gwen."

She stepped back as if he'd just dealt her a cruel blow. Tears sprung to her eyes. Swallowing back emotion, she said in a strained voice. "Listen to yourself Arthur ... this isn't you."

He abruptly turned away from her, walking across the room to the fireplace.

"You don't know me," he spoke in a low voice.

She stared at his rigid back bewildered.

"Your father said something bad?" Her voice catching in her throat "did he threaten you?"

"No," Arthur muttered.

"You're lying!"

He had to be.

Arthur turned abruptly, his face half hidden in shadow.

"This relationship is pointless Gwen," he stated "it can't go anywhere," he continued raking a hand through his hair.

"I'm an officer and you're not and as we both know that breaks the rules."

He sounded so businesslike and detached. They had both known that from the beginning and it hadn't bothered him then, so why now?

"Not to mention I received orders this morning and I'm going to be deployed out to Camp Bastion in Afghanistan and I need to be focused," he continued in that same detached tone of voice.

She felt a tightness in her stomach, it couldn't end this way? Half an hour ago he was kissing her passionately and telling her how beautiful she was and she could see in his eyes what she meant to him. There had to more to this!

"You need me now, more than ever," she spoke, her voice shook, tears trickled down her cheeks.

"I don't need you."

How his words wounded her and she felt as if she'd just been slapped in the face. Maybe he really was like his father after all.

"I'm sorry," he said, quietly, his gaze focused on the window, sullen "that's just how it is."

He couldn't bear seeing the hurt in her eyes. Did she have to make it harder for him than it already was, forcing him to be so blunt?

"So am I," she softly murmured and turning slowly she walked out of the room, the door swinging shut after her.

Arthur was left standing in the room, alone. Within the space of half an hour his whole world was crashing down around him and there was no chance in the broken pieces ever fitting back together.

He buried his face in the palms of his hands.

What had he done?

Raking his hands through his hair, feeling utterly wretched he blindly turned to the drink cabinet, groping for the bottle of Scotch he knew to be there and a glass. His hands shook as he poured a generous amount of liquor in to the glass.

Picking up the glass in downed the contents in one long gulp and poured some more.

"Where is Gwen?"

He turned slowly to see Morgana standing there.

"She left," he dully returned.

She frowned, her eyes raking over him before resting on the glass.

"What did you say to her?"

He picked up the glass, held it out to her before taking a sip.

"I broke things off between us."

Her eyes narrowed.

"You bastard!"

He looked at her coldly.

"I thought you'd be pleased Morgana, isn't that what you wanted?"

She vehemently shook her head. "That isn't what I wanted."

"You brought father out on to the balcony ..." he calmly began, feeling anything but.

"I admit I wanted to piss him off but I didn't think for a moment that you would be so spineless to break it off with Gwen," she waspishly retorted.

He winced at her words.

"You don't change do you," she mocked, looking at him with disdain "always the daddy's boy."

He felt like hitting her. She had no idea! And what was worst is he couldn't tell her. He had to let Gwen believe that he no longer wanted her. Telling anyone about the concealed threat his father had given would only give her hope in a hopeless situation and prolong both of their miseries. At least this way she could move on.

"It's for the best," he muttered taking another sip.

"You disgust me," she hissed and stormed out of the room.

He sat back wearily on the single leather armed sofa. She had no idea how unbelievably hard it was to say what he did to Gwen. Even now the pain in her eyes mixed with the confusion and hurt haunted him.

Thank god he would leave for Camp Bastion in a week's time and maybe then he could put this all behind him, forget Gwen and move on.

His rested the glass against his forehead. But who was he kidding. He would never forget her and never forget what his father had done to him.

_It's called sacrifice Arthur._ His father never said it would hurt this damn much.

The door opened again and this time Gwaine appeared.

"I've been looking for you," he said, stepping into the room and glancing down at Arthur.

"What are doing in here?"

Arthur wished Gwaine would leave him the hell alone.

"What happened with your father?" he continued.

"The usual, he told me to call off my relationship with Gwen ..."

"You didn't, did you?" Gwaine quickly interrupted.

Arthur took another swig of his Scotch and Gwaine swore under his breath.

"You really are a gutless wonder," Gwaine muttered and Arthur's jaw clenched.

"I don't want to talk about it," he muttered in a low warning voice.

"Yeah well, right now mate you are my least favourite person," Gwaine retorted and with that he stormed out of the room.

Arthur screwed his eyes shut, fought back the tears that threatened. Right now he was the most hated person and deservedly so but no one could hate him anymore than he hated himself.

Dragging himself off the sofa, he walked to the liquor cabinet. He was going to get stinking drunk. It was the only way to escape the misery. He filled the glass almost to the top. Drank it quickly and poured another glass now feeling the effect of the alcohol.

He heard a knock on the door. Now what, someone else to give him a hard time?

"Come in."

The door slowly opened and Emmett's face peered around the corner.

"You here to give me your two bits worth as well," he muttered darkly "you might as well," he continued with a wave of his hand "Morgana has already called me a bastard and a number of other things, even Gwaine called me a gutless wonder so go ahead and say what you like."

Emmett had stepped into the room, his eyes rested on the glass in his hand.

"How much have you had to drink?"

It was the last thing Arthur expected and a bitter brief laugh escaped his throat.

"Not nearly enough."

He half staggered back to the single sofa and plonked himself down on to it. He glanced up at Emmett who had gone strangely quiet.

"Spit it out then."

But Emmett was still being quiet. Arthur frowned.

"Out of everyone here you probably have the most just cause to give me a hard time."

"I could call you an idiot," Emmett spoke "if that helps."

"It's a start."

Emmett slowly lowered himself into the other single leather seated sofa. Arthur waited for the berating to start and when it didn't he glanced across at Emmett.

He sat there, a thoughtful look on his face. And why wasn't the young man giving him a hard time?

"You got nothing else to say?" he prompted.

Emmett looked down at his clasped hands in his lap.

"What do you want me to say?"

Arthur's frown deepened, he really was an odd fellow.

"I broke Gwen's heart," he pointed out, taking another swig of his Scotch.

Emmett blinked. "Yeah I know," he quietly replied "why?"

Morgana and Gwaine had just assumed the worst of him, gave him a tongue lashing and Emmett simply asked why. And the worst thing is he had no idea on what to say. His gaze lowered to the glass clenched in his hands. His heart constricting in his chest and he found himself longing to tell someone the truth, what his father had threatened. But Emmett was closer to Gwen than anyone else and the last person he could tell despite the desire to do otherwise.

"It's for the best," he muttered bleakly.

Emmett eyes held and caught his, a question in their depths.

"I'm being deployed to Afghanistan in a week's time," he began "under the first Battalion Princess of Wales Regiment and who knows when I'll be back."

He took another long swig of his Scotch, noticing the glass was already nearly empty and his head was beginning to spin.

"So what does that have to do with Gwen?"

Arthur glanced at him. "I can't ask her to wait."

"So just better to tell her you don't care?"

He clenched the glass tightly till his knuckles whitened and a long lengthy silence followed. Emmett had no idea what his father was like. He was still reeling from the intense emotions of the last hour. What his father had threatened. What he had done and said to Gwen.

"Because I know that you do Arthur," Emmett continued.

Arthur couldn't bring himself to meet his gaze because Emmett was right, uncannily so.

"What would you know," he muttered, finishing of the last of his Scotch.

But Emmett said nothing.

Getting up from the single seat sofa Arthur poured himself another glass, waiting for Emmett to say something but the young man just sat there quietly. He should tell him to piss off so why wasn't he? And Arthur came to the slow realization that instead of finding Emmett annoying that he did in actual fact find his presence to be strangely soothing.

"You say you don't care but you're eyes belie you," Emmett finally spoke.

Arthur didn't bother to reply. He couldn't. Emmett had somehow managed to see straight through him, as always. He was beginning to feel too drunk to even make sense of it and he sat back down in the chair.

"Just don't tell Gwen," he murmured at length.

A puzzled frown skittered across Emmett's forehead.

"Please ... just promise me, it's to protect Gwen."

Emmett blinked, he looked like he wanted to say something, argue back even but then he merely nodded.

Relieved Arthur drank the rest of his Scotch, which was really a bad idea because a sudden wave of nausea hit him.

"I don't feel so good," he groaned, leaning forward in his seat.

"Drinking half a bottle of Scotch in less than an hour probably isn't the wisest thing to do," Emmett pointed out.

It suddenly just went to his head, the room swayed. Emmett was by this side.

"Let's get you to bed," he said, helping him to his feet.

Even his legs felt like a dead weight as Emmett half dragged him out of the den and down the corridor. Why was Emmett helping him? He should hate him like everyone else. He hated himself.

"What are you doing here," he got out in a slurred voice "you should be with her I'm not worth your effort."

"I'll be the judge of that," Emmett returned, panting slightly under his weight "and I will once you are in bed."

"W-Why are you so ... so loyal?"

But Emmett didn't answer and Arthur couldn't be bothered asking again. The walls were spinning and he longed for bed.

"I hate my father," he muttered.

"You'll have to learn to forgive him one day."

Arthur let out a mirthless laugh. "You have no idea on what he's done or could do."

At last they were back in his room and Emmett helped him to bed.

"I know what he's done," he murmured.

Arthur wanted to ask how he knew but the room was spinning now. He couldn't think straight. Emmett was removing his shoes. Arthur tried sitting up and even managed to point a finger in his face.

"You," he began, trying to formulate the words he wanted to say in his drunken haze.

"Gwen," he continued _she might be dispensable ... but she's not dispensable to me._

"Look after her."

He fell back on the bed, his stomach rolling _Emmett would look after her. _He had faith in him.

"Arthur."

Arthur forced his eyes open, saw Emmett's face hovering anxiously over his and noted the deep sorrow in his eyes.

"Always," he softly said.

His eyes sought to hold on to the image of Emmett's face as his eye lids began to droop. Why did he look so sad?

_I'm not going to lose you, _words whispered through the dark recesses of his mind.

"Sleep it off Arthur," Emmett murmured "it'll turn out alright in the end."

Another time and place came into view. Emmett he was crying, holding him, he could sense the young man's desperation _you're not going to die._

He tried to get the name past his lips, but his eyes closed and the name merely echoed in his head _Merlin._

Sleep consumed him.

* * *

**A/N: **I have to stay straight up, no Arthur hasn't entirely remembered exactly who Merlin is but the time is coming. Also, Arthur is drunk and the likelihood of him remembering the very last bedroom scene in detail is possibly not probable. But believe me when that dramatic moment comes you'll will love it. Least I hope?

I am MOST anxious to see what people think of this chapter! So please leave a review and let me know what you liked about it, or any constructive criticism about something I might have missed or should be exploring.

I really like the thought of Merlin helping Morgana deal with her unforgiveness and _for now_ that is all their relationship dynamic will be exploring. I'm more about Morgana finding redemption than making her evil. I am curious to see what people think about the scene where Morgana tells Merlin why she hates her father so much. Again thanks for the feedback on who Merlin should be with.

I hope it wasn't too sad? Some scenes took me a long while to write.

Now I have to confess that I actually spent 3 years in the Royal Australian Airforce as a Medical Assistant. I didn't go to any wars and worked in a military hospital near the city of Melbourne in Victoria and I know just how bad a dishonorable discharge actually is, not that I was dishonorably discharged. So some of my knowledge in this area is legit.

Thank you for reading!

_Now this is just some of my own musings:_

Arthur is born from magic. Merlin is magic. I just find that so ironically beautiful.

In the beginning Merlin walked behind Arthur somewhere along the way they walked side to side by the end Merlin walked in front of Arthur, as his protector. I think the strength in the show was the equality, master and servant, best friends, prince/king and serving girl, love and marriage. Class structure and elitism has no place without loyalty, friendship and love.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Thank you so much for all the great reviews! They really make my day and inspire me to write this story, so much so that I've even managed to upload another chapter just a week later given my hectic work load! So please keep them coming.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

_**Chapter 10. Camp Bastion**_

* * *

Arthur only truly felt alive in his dreams. Ever since the night of Morgana's 21st birthday and the events that had unfolded he'd retreated far deep within himself. At least emotionally that was. Because shutting down all emotion was the only way he could function.

He did everything in a robotic fashion. Attended the board meetings his father wanted him to attend and went about daily activities with barely little interest.

It was like an arm or leg had been severed, or far worse, part of his soul.

He felt empty inside.

Alone.

So alone in that big sterile, cold empty mansion called home that had never really been a home.

He was climbing the walls or more like staring at the same four walls of his bedroom. Feeling claustrophobic, and had this been his life? What sort of life was it?

For just a few short months he had felt alive, connected. Once knowing what he'd lost the empty chasm that was now his reality seemed much awful than it ever had done. But at night, when he slept and dreamed of a place and people he felt whole. Gwen, passionate, the unfounded belief she had in him and then there was the young man, Emmett. That same loyalty _I believe in you Arthur _both of them completing him in a way he couldn't explain.

All he knew was that his life without them was strangely empty. And it just didn't make sense.

Arthur came to the conclusion that little in his life of late had.

The morning Gwen and Emmett had left he had lain in bed, unwillingly to move from it. How could he? What he had done ... well he could never face Gwen again.

As for Emmett, what he could recall of their conversation from the previous night, Emmett, memories vague, had been there, for him, when he shouldn't have been. Arthur briefly recalled the young man helping him to his room ... and why? _Why are you so loyal?_

By the time he had dragged himself out of bed, close to midday, they were all gone, even Morgana and Gwaine. It was just him and father over the next couple of days. He began counting down the days till he left for Camp Bastion and maybe he'd find some purpose to his existence there.

Even Gwaine's annoying company would make a welcome relief. But Gwaine was pissed off with him, not that it would last. Gwaine wasn't one for bearing grudges for too long. Except against his father, he had an innate dislike for authority and anyone in an elitist position.

'_But you're alright Arthur,' Gwaine would say, 'not like your old man.'_

They had become friends in the most unlikely situation, a pub brawl. When a couple of local lads, who his father had fired, decided to take their grudges out on him and Gwaine had come to his defense.

Arthur was impressed and mystified.

'_Why did you help me?'_

'_Three against one, you didn't stand a chance and I hate an unfair fight.'_

Gwaine might be annoying as hell at times but he also kept Arthur grounded.

'_Just promise me one thing mate,' Gwaine would often say 'don't turn out like your old man.'_

No chance in that happening. He couldn't figure his father out. When he was a kid he had respected him, even looked up to him. Questioning his father motives was something that happened till he hit his teen years. He still respected him just that he didn't always agree with the way his father ran things. But now there was no respect left at all.

He was civil to his father but only out of an act of duty. Quite often he would look up to see his father watching him, a reflective expression on his face. Did his father even consider what he'd done to his own son? Did he care? Maybe in his own twisted way but Arthur wouldn't be forgiving him anytime soon. He no longer cared what his father thought of him. He didn't need his approval.

By the sixth day Arthur came to one conclusion; he hated his life. The half empty bottle of bourbon sat on his bedside table but he couldn't bring himself to drink anymore. What purpose did it serve? Sure he could forget for a few hours but when he woke the empty numb feeling was worse.

What did he do? He tugged at his hair in frustration. What was he? Who was he?

He felt like doing something desperate, anything to feel alive. But there was nothing and then his eyes fell on the sword.

Slowly rising from this bed, he moved towards the sword. It hummed as if waiting for him. He unsheathed it and held it out in front of him. The bedside lamp casting a golden light to glisten upon the sword and tears threatened without him even knowing why.

_Remember me ... Arthur._

He couldn't stop sketching after, one after the other, sketches of the boy with the hands, hands that had magic, eyes that spoke of loss and pain, eyes that glowed gold, eyes he had trusted with his life, eyes that smiled, filled with humour, eyes that never left him, always there, always in the background, but always so reassuring in their presence. Everything would be alright, as long as the boy was there. Without him, life just wasn't thinkable.

He was never complete without _Merlin._

* * *

Gwen buried herself in her work. That hadn't changed. Sometimes Merlin felt exhausted just watching her, always moving, cleaning, fixing something and never stopping. Gwen's way in dealing with emotional issues. A month had passed since Morgana's birthday and still Gwen hadn't stopped working, opting for extra shifts in the hospital.

"You're going to wear yourself out," he told her, one morning when they were both working side by side.

He had noticed the dark circles under her eyes and she looked to have lost weight.

"I'm fine," she had returned.

No you're not, you're not fine Gwen.

"Talk to me Gwen."

That was the problem. Gwen didn't wish to discuss anything to do with Arthur.

"I just want to forget about him," she would say whenever he attempted to bring the subject up.

_He had gone to see her after leaving Arthur's room, happening to run into Uther just as he closed Arthur's bedroom door. _

_He hadn't expected that._

_Uther looked him over, frowning._

"_Who are you?"_

_He had considered saying 'Gwen's friend' but thought better of it._

"_A friend of Morgana's," he returned, meeting Uther's gaze directly, unflinchingly._

_Uther's eyes raked over him again._

"_Morgana's choice of friends always puzzles me," he spoke._

"_Hmm I guess it does," Merlin began "and how baffling it must be that after all these years, you still haven't figured out your own daughter."_

_Uther stiffened, his eyes narrowed. Merlin wasn't intimated by Uther. He no longer had the power to burn him at the stake. The only thing he could do was possibly throw him out of the house._

'_What would you know?' Uther sneered._

'_I know that right now both your son and your daughter hate you.'_

_Merlin had expected a tongue lashing. He could see the anger simmering in Uther's eyes but there was something else too. Something that Merlin could almost swear looked a lot like regret. But that look of regret vanished as quickly as it had appeared and only anger remained._

'_You have some nerve,' Uther began in a low menacing voice 'to tell me such things in my own home.'_

_Merlin shrugged, his direct gaze meeting Uther's head on, unblinking._

'_I'm only telling you the truth," he replied 'it's up to you to decide what to do with it.'_

_And with that, he turned and walked away, leaving a gob smacked Uther gaping after him._

_It had felt good to put Uther in his place. Surprisingly Uther didn't throw him out of the house but when he reached Gwen's room it was to find her packing._

'_What are you doing?'_

'_I don't want to spend another night in this house,' she returned over her shoulder, zipping up her bag._

_Merlin closed the door behind him and walked over to her. _

'_I know you're hurt ...' he began._

_She straightened up and slowly turned towards him. Her face was red and splotchy from crying, though her eyes were dry._

'_It's better I find out now what he's really like,' she muttered, pushing her hair back from her face 'obviously he doesn't have the courage to stand up to his father.'_

_Merlin wanted to tell her that wasn't so and there was a reason but Arthur had made him promise not to and damn it. He hated seeing her hurt this way, hated that her opinion of Arthur would be so tarnished. It was just wrong._

'_And I don't want to be with a man who cannot be true to himself,' she continued, picking up the bag from the bed and slinging it over her shoulder._

'_I guess it is better this way,' she gave a resigned sigh._

_No it's not! Arthur and Gwen were meant to be together, if not now, then one day it would happen as it once had done. _

'_He does care about you,' he softly spoke 'I know he does.'_

_Gwen's confused brown eyes met with his, he saw the wounded vulnerability in there depths._

'_Maybe he does but he doesn't love me,' she sighed bleakly_

'_How do you know?'_

_She drew in a deep breath and straightened her shoulders 'because if he did he would have stood up to his father.'_

_Merlin felt like tearing his hair out. Okay so this was how it would play out for now and he'd long learned not to mess with fate but it hurt to see his friends suffering._

'_Maybe he has his reasons.'_

_Her eyes clouded with pain and doubt._

'_It still doesn't change anything.'_

_Merlin rested his hands on her shoulders and gazed down at her sad face._

'_Don't leave tonight Gwen,' he begged 'I know you're hurt but running away in the middle of the night isn't a good idea and Morgana would be upset if we didn't say goodbye.'_

'_I can't face him,' she murmured with a shake of her head, tears gathering in her eyes 'I have my pride Emmett.'_

_Him all of people was well aware of that!_

_She hastily brushed a hand across her eyes._

'_I wish I had never met him,' her voice hollow, broken 'then I wouldn't feel so wretched.'_

Gwen hadn't mentioned Arthur since and when he attempted to discuss him she was quick to change the subject. But he was going to say something he probably shouldn't but it needed to be said.

"You're still not over Arthur?"

Gwen frowned and continued tucking in the bed sheets. Always Gwen's way when wanting to avoid discussing anything personal. Some things just didn't change.

"What makes you say that?" she casually returned.

Sighing Merlin leaned over the bed and placed his hand on hers in an attempt to get her to listen.

"You don't stop Gwen, you're running yourself ragged."

Gwen straightened up, her face going still but the pain in her eyes betrayed her as they always had.

"Gwen," he began softly reaching out to her.

He could see the conflicting emotions cross her face, tears filled her eyes. Then her resolve seemed to break and he held out his arms to her. She slid into them. He held her _as he always had done _rubbing her back soothingly.

"Talk to me," he murmured his voice hoarse.

"I-I just wish," she stammered "I just wished I felt nothing for Arthur."

Merlin swallowed the lump in this throat. _It's not your fault Gwen_ he wanted to tell her _you loved Arthur with all of your heart in another life and it's just that you don't remember it but the feelings are still there all the same as they are for Arthur_.

"It'll turn out alright."

Gwen wanted to believe him but she doubted she could ever trust her heart to Arthur again. Even though she thought about him and a lot, wondering if he were okay over there in Afghanistan. Was he on the front lines? Was he safe? Did he think about her and then she would berate herself, why should she care! He had, after all, made it painfully clear that he didn't need her and that they wouldn't work out, it was just a fling, they had a nice time and now it was over. End of story.

Just as well she had her best friend for support.

Emmett, she mused fondly, ever the optimist.

She stroked his cheek. As long as she had him she would be okay. He would never leave her side _she had always known that._

Emmett smiled warmly and she smiled in return.

"He dreams about you, you know," she said.

"Who?"

"Arthur," she continued "not in that way," she quickly added "he told me that he often had these dreams and you were in them, and Gwaine."

"What are the dreams about?"

"He says the past, he's fighting in battles with a sword ..." and her voice trailed off there by the sudden pallor of Emmett's face.

His smile faded and an emotion she couldn't read filled his eyes.

"Emmett?" she asked hesitantly "what's wrong?"

He swallowed and looked away.

"Nothing, I'm fine," he mumbled, running a hand through his hair.

Gwen noticed the slight tremor in his hand. It puzzled her.

"You don't look fine," she continued slowly.

He quickly turned away and hastily busied himself with straightening the bed sheets.

She watched him perplexed, knowing he was elusive with discussing anything about himself, especially his past but this ... why should Arthur's dreams affect him so?

"Emmett?"

He glanced up, a haunted look in his wide and normally cheerful eyes.

Her throat grew tight with an emotion she couldn't define.

She had seen that in his eyes, once before ... long ago.

"Private Alston and Coleman that bed isn't going to make itself," Sergeant Anderson bellowed from the ward doorway.

Gwen jumped startled and glanced quickly at the angry Sergeant.

"Get on with it," and with that he moved on.

"I think he's in a good mood today," Emmett quipped "he didn't nearly yell half as loud."

Gwen smiled, gave half a laugh. "I think you're right," she agreed turning to Emmett and just like that he looked perfectly normal again. As if nothing had happened, as if she had imagined that haunted look in his eyes.

Only she hadn't. Emmett might be elusive but he knew something, something he wasn't willing to share and it intrigued her.

One way or another she would find out what that was.

* * *

The thing that sucked most about being at Camp Bastion was the lack of alcohol. Gwaine hadn't gone so long without a drink before, four bloody weeks. The second thing was the heat. It was stinking hot, some days it reached 50 degrees Celsius. The third thing was the stupid eight weeks training he had been forced to do; days spent marching in full body armour under the searing sun to get them used to the heat. Hours spent in boring lectures on how to train the Afghans to become policemen and soldiers. The fourth thing being stuck with misery guts, Arthur, his so called friend. Seriously the bloke never smiled. He seldom joked anymore either. He just went about the daily tasks and activities with a steely determination to get the job done with little thought to anyone else's feelings around him. When they had free time Arthur spent it either running or at the gym. He probably almost had as good a physique as him now. Almost that was, Gwaine was well aware of just how hot his body was. Not that he had to fear any competition because Arthur seemed oblivious to all women around him. And there were plenty of pretty young women here to catch his fancy, the one and only bonus with being at Camp Bastion.

"If I didn't know any better I'd think you were mooning over Gwen," he quipped, as they did another 7km foot patrol around Camp Bastion in the searing heat.

Arthur turned suddenly and glared at him so fiercely that Gwaine put up a hand.

"Easy on there Princess."

"Don't mention her name," he hissed before turning back around and Gwaine stared at his rigid back. And that's when the penny dropped. Arthur really was mooning over Gwen. That accounted for his bad temper, his aloofness, his surly attitude. Why the hell had he dumped her then? Because his old man told him to but then that didn't make sense because Arthur could be defiant towards his father when he wanted to be. And Gwaine wasn't about to be told by Arthur. He was acting like he was some damn bloody King, issuing out orders and expecting to be obeyed.

"You know you looked just like your old man then."

Arthur's step faltered for a moment and Gwaine noticed how his hand clenched into a fist. Maybe he should press a few buttons, see how far he could rile Arthur up. Plus he was bored.

"You've even forgotten how to have fun," he continued "now all you do is live and breathe work."

No response.

"That sound familiar to you eh?"

"Let it rest Gwaine," Arthur muttered over his shoulder.

Gwaine ignored him.

"You've become a regular misery guts since."

Still nothing.

"She must mean a damn lot to you then, to make you like this, I've never seen you like this before," he prattled "too bad you lacked the courage to tell your old man to piss off ..." and bam, he walked straight into Arthur's back.

He hadn't realized Arthur had stopped walking.

"Five minute break time," the CO yelled.

Gwaine stepped back, saw the turbulent sea of emotions in Arthur's eyes. He suddenly felt bad.

"Hey I was bang out of order," he began "forget what I said."

He pulled his helmet off and grabbing his water bottle he poured some over his hair, shaking his head. That felt good, much better. He ruffled his sweat drenched hair.

"You need a haircut," Arthur spoke "I don't know how you get away with it."

Arthur was now talking, a good sign, he'd visibly relaxed and had also removed his helmet.

"You know me. I just put on the charm eh," he grinned, "always works."

A small brief smile flickered across Arthur's face and he shook his head.

"Otherwise I'd end up like you," he continued "with porcupine hair, not a good look."

"Oh really," Arthur drawled "because that matters out here, not that we're fighting a war but just being a pretty boy."

Gwaine had sat down on the dusty gravel and grinned up at him. It'd been a while since Arthur had called him a pretty boy. It used to piss him off but now he welcomed the term.

"It is if you want to impress the ladies."

Arthur muttered something under his breath and sat down next to him.

"Just as well you don't," he continued "what this fierce sun has done to that fair pale pasty complexion of yours," he shook his head.

"You're going to go home looking ten years older."

Arthur merely gave him a bemused glance. "Yeah right," he snorted "you're so full of shit and at least I'm not vain."

Gwaine laughed.

"Yeah well wait and see when Gwen mistakes you for an old man."

"Time to move on!" the CO bellowed.

Gwaine dragged himself to his feet and reluctantly put his helmet back on.

"The first thing I'm going to do when these eight weeks are over is get stinking drunk," he sighed and glanced down at Arthur.

He still sat on the ground, lost in thought and damn he shouldn't have mentioned Gwen. The guy really did have it bad. He looked miserable.

"C'mon Arthur, get your ass into gear."

Arthur shoved his helmet back on, looking irresolute as he stood up. He went back to being sullen and quiet and Gwaine inwardly sighed. Make mental note not to mention Gwen's name again.

* * *

_Four weeks later_

* * *

Merlin stared out of the RAF aircraft Tristar window to the ground below. How tiny everything looked. The ground below didn't seem real reminding him of a picture book. Nothing moved except the clouds beneath them. It was strangely beautiful but there was no wind in his face, no feel of that that same said cool wind wiping through his clothes like it had when he rode on Aithusa's back. It almost felt like cheating. This was too easy and a lot more comfortable.

"How are you feeling?" Gwen asked beside him "not nervous?"

He could almost laugh at that. Try riding on the back of a dragon and then you'll have a new found respect for the fear of flying, he mused.

"No, just that it's odd," he replied, glancing over his shoulder at her.

"Odd?"

"Yeah, here we are sitting in this cosy cabin miles above the earth and it doesn't even feel like you're moving," he replied.

Gwen still didn't get it. Merlin could tell by the blank look on her face. He smiled.

"This is my first time flying," he added _on a plane that is._

Aithusa never minded when he rode her back. She was young and impressionable and eager to please, following him around like a pet dog. Moments like these he found himself missing her. He only liked to recall the good memories and not how it had ended for her.

When she died so had magic from the land, becoming nothing more than a mere myth. He was magic, it was part of him, it came from the earth and he felt it, once, all the time and now ... now it only existed in distant echoes. It lay dormant. Waiting ... waiting to be woken when the time was right, when fear and superstition faded. The 16th and 17th centuries saw a witch-hunt such as the world had never seen. For hundreds of years people were being burnt at the stake, when would it end? It wasn't until the 18th century that the barbaric practice passed away, that Merlin felt safe to even use the smallest of magic spells again. But then their seldom was a need for his magic. When he did use magic it was mostly for healing.

It no longer hummed inside of him like it used to. Those days had long passed by, sadly.

"I've never been on a flight this long before," Gwen spoke breaking him out of his reverie.

"Seven hours," she continued and bit down on her lip, glancing his way.

"I know my brother has told me what to expect once we reach Camp Bastion but I'm still nervous and excited at the same time."

"I'm excited," he admitted.

She smiled warmly at him and shook her head bemused.

"What a coincidence that both of us are being deployed to Camp Bastion at the same time."

That's right, that's what people called fate now, a coincidence.

"Or maybe it's fate."

A puzzled frown dented her smooth forehead a half amused smile crossed her face. She raised an eyebrow.

"You believe in fate?"

"Of course," he nodded "isn't it fate that we met on day one of our training becoming best friend?"

He turned to face her, leaning in closer. "That we had both chosen to become a medic and now here we are on our way to Afghanistan at the exact same time."

She went still, a glazed look in her eye.

"It's as if it's meant to be Gwen."

She blinked, her eyes locking with his, a sudden wistfulness in their depths.

"You feel it too don't you?"

She smiled warmly and squeezed his fingers with her hand.

"I feel that with you by my side everything will be okay," she murmured "though I don't know why?"

He grinned. "That's because it will be."

"You really are so very special Emmett."

Her words warmed his heart. Moments like these he found himself wishing she remembered so that he could once again talk freely about himself.

His thoughts drifted to Arthur. Arthur had dreams about Camelot, Gwaine and him. What did that mean? Was it a sign that perhaps Arthur would remember him soon? That the day would come when Arthur realized they were not dreams but memories?

Merlin didn't want to hope because the bitter disappointment he would feel if it didn't happen would be too much to bear.

'_I've seen how much he needs you, how much you need him. You're like two sides of the same coin._

His mother's words echoed in his head, the kindness and love in her eyes swimming before him. He closed his eyes, willing the pain of loss to disappear. He felt Gwen fidget restlessly next to him. It was only a matter of time before she asked him what was wrong and he'd have to lie again.

Forcing his eyes open, he glanced in her direction.

"What if you see Arthur?"

She just shrugged nonchalantly.

"It's a big base with over 4,000 British soldiers it's probably unlikely I'll even see him, Officers and non-commissioned officers don't mix remember, they have their own eating Mess hall and we have ours, they their own tavern, we our own."

Don't underestimate fate, he felt like saying and he just knew that his and Arthur's path would be crossing again very soon. In what way he didn't know only that they would.

"But what if you do?" he persisted.

"I'm over him now," she replied with a dismissive wave.

Yeah right, now Gwen was living in a cocoon of denial.

* * *

The eight weeks training to be part of the Police mentoring Advisory Group was at last over and they had a two day break before going out in theatre on a six month tour of duty with operation Herrick 17 at Patrol Base Clifton.

Gwaine was happy because it meant he could finally have a drink. He tried to talk him into going to the tavern but Arthur wasn't interested.

Gwaine was gobsmacked.

"It's the last time you'll be able to have a beer for three months," he exclaimed.

"Unlike you Gwaine I can live without it."

Gwaine wouldn't let up and in the end Arthur went just to shut him up. But he soon wished he hadn't because being at the tavern meant having to socialize.

He was rusty at it, out of touch and his heart wasn't in it but after a few beers he began to relax. It wasn't so bad.

Sandy, a pretty blonde young officer was chatting to him. He feigned an interest because he should be over Gwen by now. It had been two months, time to move on.

After a while they even started to get cosy, the beer going to his head after eight weeks without a drink.

She was gorgeous. He could be charming again. It wasn't long before she was kissing him. He responded initially, a hand brushing through her sleek long straight hair. No curls to catch in his fingers. It wasn't right, it wasn't the same. This was all wrong. She wasn't Gwen.

He pulled back and saw the sudden confusion in Sandy's eyes.

He swallowed hard.

"I'm sorry," he muttered "but I can't do this."

Arthur made a hasty retreat. He had to get out of there, dammit. What the hell had he been thinking? Who was he kidding? Of course he wasn't over Gwen. He doubted he ever would be.

The cool night breeze caressed his flushed cheeks and he welcomed it, his head beginning to clear.

"You idiot," he berated himself as he walked back to his dormitory.

He shoved his hands in his pockets.

Bloody terrific, he was going to end up a lonely bachelor for life at this rate.

_Men were rushing down the hillside, maces and swords in their hands. Arthur draws his sword and waits for the attack to begin. He doesn't have to wait long. He glances over his shoulder in search of Merlin, hoping he has the sense to lay low. Even though he teases him about being a coward he never means it. Arthur is fighting with a man on foot and finds himself suddenly pulled from his horse. He hits the ground hard but rolls over, ready to fight. Arthur cuts the mercenary down and fends off another attacker._

'_Arthur!' he hears Merlin yell and he spins around in time to defend himself against what could have been a fatal blow if Merlin hadn't yelled out. Finishing off his attacker Arthur turns and stops in horror at Merlin, sprawled limply face first on the ground. God no, not Merlin. There was no way he was losing him. Rushing over towards him limp body, Arthur picks him up from the ground._

_Merlin stirs and instant relief hits him hard. He is alive but they had to get out of here and fast._

_Arthur supports Merlin's weight as they hurry through the forest, pursued by the mercenaries. They hid behind some trees._

'_They need to work through their anger,' Merlin manages to quip despite the pain etched in his face._

'_They just did, on you,' he returns, attempting to hide the gnawing panic growing in the pit of his stomach._

_Merlin chuckles despite the pain._

_They really had to get out of here. He has to save Merlin, his number one priority._

_Supporting Merlin's weight, they make their way through the forest._

'_A night's rest and you'll be polishing my armour. They could definitely do with a scrub,' Arthur said as he eases Merlin down against a fallen log. Taking off his glove Arthur checks Merlin's wound. Merlin looks down at the wound and then at him. Arthur tries to make light of it, to cover how bad it looks._

'_I've seen worse. I've definitely seen worse,' he lies._

'_I'm a dead man,' Merlin mutters._

_He was if they didn't get help soon and there is no way he is going to let Merlin die._

'_You're not going to die Merlin. Don't be such a coward!'_

_He doesn't mean to be brusque only that he's secretly terrified. The thought of losing Merlin isn't even thinkable. He couldn't be without him._

'_If I do die will you call me a hero?'_

_Trust Merlin to make light of it all._

'_Probably.'_

'_But whilst I'm still alive, I'm a coward?'_

'_That's the way these things work, I'm afraid. You get the glory when you're not around to appreciate it.'_

'_Well ... unless you're the king.'_

'_Come on, it's got to have some advantages.'_

'_You have a very good servant.'_

_Merlin smiles at his joke but Arthur sees the pain in his eyes and its makes him feel so useless. This is wrong. _

'_You're right I do, a servant who's extremely brave and incredibly loyal, to be honest, not cowardly at all.'_

_They share a poignant look and Arthur swallows the lump in his throat. I'm not going to lose you._

'_Thank you for saving my life.'_

'_You'd do the same for me.'_

_Arthur hears a twig crack and looks up to see birds take flight. Not a good sign. He looks over at Merlin who is still lying in pain. Arthur gets up and sheathes his sword._

'_I'd love to say we can stay here and rest, but another ten minutes, we'll be mercenary mincemeat.'_

_He pulls Merlin up by the arm and lifts him into a fireman's carry._

'_Leave me,' Merlin murmurs._

'_Now's not the time for jokes.'_

'_Please leave me.'_

'_Sure. Whatever say.'_

_Not bloody likely. Ignoring him he heads off. He comes to a set of stairs in a crevice and spies a mercenary at the other end. He sets Merlin down. Merlin grunts in pain. Arthur draws his sword and rushes towards the mercenary. Another mercenary attacks from behind and he kills the both of them but much to his dismay more mercenaries rush by Merlin towards him. Arthur braces himself for the battle. He doesn't stand a chance, but by god he'll go down fighting._

_There is a sudden loud rushing roar, the ground shakes and Arthur watches large boulders fall down to the ground cutting him off from Merlin._

_Sudden panic hits him hard in the pit of his gut._

'_Merlin!' he yells in anguish._

_This isn't happening ... it can't be! _

Someone was shaking him and he suddenly awoke with a start. Drenched in sweat, heart racing he looked up at Gwaine's concerned face.

"You were having a nightmare," he said, his words sounding slightly slurred.

Arthur shivered, feeling completely shaken and exhausted. The dream still too vivid in his mind, causing his heart to ache, it seemed so real. But it's not. It's just a dream he told himself, nothing more.

"Must be some dream, you look awful," Gwaine continued.

He glanced back at him. He felt awful.

"I'm surprised you're still standing," Arthur remarked, not wanting to discuss the dream.

"Just," Gwaine grinned and staggered to his bed, "who's Merlin by the way?"

Arthur froze.

"You kept mumbling his name."

"I-I ... no one." And just someone who happened to look a lot like Emmett and how was that even possible? It made no sense.

Gwaine sat, more like fell on to his bed, pulling his shoes off.

"I knew a Merlin once," he mumbled, lying back on the bed.

Arthur sat up startled. What the hell?

"You did, when?"

"I don't know, can't remember now," came Gwaine's slurred response.

Arthur's eyes widened, that ... that was just freaky.

"He never expects any praise," Gwaine mumbled in his drunken haze, causing the hairs to stand up on the back of Arthur's neck. "I like that about him."

He was about to question Gwaine further when he noticed Gwaine had already fallen into a drunken sleep and there would be no getting anything more out of him. But those words ... they haunted him.

Arthur lay back down on the bed, grabbing the blanket and scrunching it up in his hands as he held it to his chest. The dream had disturbed him. It left him feeling shattered in a way he didn't understand and the sense of loss ... was awful, which was just absurd. And now Gwaine was saying weird things, but then Gwaine was drunk, he often said odd random things when in that state.

"It's just a damn stupid dream," he muttered to himself.

Except it didn't feel like it.

* * *

The compound was a hub of activity on the morning Arthur's attached platoon, along with three others was assembling in preparation for their departure to Patrol Base Clifton and the official handover with the Danish Charlie Company who had been holding the PB line area of operations for the last five and half months. Arthur was keen to get going, glad the two day break was over. He preferred to be kept busy. That way he didn't have to think.

Gwaine walked past him and he looked positively green.

"I told you not to drink too much last night," Arthur chided him, as he picked up his kit, which weighed a ton as usual.

In the eight weeks he had been here Arthur was fitter than ever. Spending hours in the gym was one way to ward off his frustrations and anger but he could only work out for so long before nearly collapsing with exhaustion. Sometimes he spent his recreation time playing Mario Kart with the other lads, even the odd game of polka, when Gwaine would talk him into it. But he still felt isolated from most everyone around him, not wanting to socialise, focussing on his work with meticulous detail. Anything to get rid of that empty feeling inside but at times no matter what he did he'd often find himself standing at the edge of that big dark chasm yawning before him. Thinking, remembering and dreaming of a different life to this one.

"I think I'm going to be sick," Gwaine groaned and rushed off in search of the nearest toilet.

Arthur rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"Typical," he snorted under his breath.

He checked to make sure everything was in place, rifle slung over his shoulder, a full water bottle, gloves on, helmet in his hand and he glanced up in search of Gwaine. That's when his eyes rested on the lanky frame of a very familiar looking young man approaching him.

His eyes must be deceiving him but he would know that face anywhere and the stupid grinning crossing it.

"Emmett?"

Emmett's grin widened.

"Arthur!" he exclaimed and all but ran up to him.

He couldn't believe it and a feeling of complete relief swamped him and something he didn't want to admit, elation. It had been so long since he last felt it and he could feel the corners of his mouth turn up into a wide smile _I thought we had lost you! _

"W-What are you doing here?" he stammered.

"I'm the medic," he replied happily "I'm doing a tour of duty with you lot."

Arthur was gobsmacked. Really? Emmett was going to be the medic for his Platoon? That was, that was ... just so uncanny.

"Huh, what a coincidence." He could barely contain the sudden happiness in his voice.

Emmett nodded in agreement.

"I know, funny how it works."

But it was right, it felt right, this is how it should be. And for the first time in two months Arthur suddenly felt grounded.

Emmett was here, everything was as it should be.

* * *

**A/N: I didn't think I would get this chapter uploaded as soon as I have done! I was going to wait one more day, do some editing but tomorrow is another full on busy day for me, so I decided to upload tonight. There are probably some spelling and grammar errors. I try to do my best given my limited time frame. If anyone is willing to be a beta reader for me I would really appreciate it! But given the length of my chapters it will probably put you off? I'm still open to offers. So let me know and we will exchange email addresses. **

**Arthur is so close to realizing his dreams are not just dreams but memories so please bear with me! All good story telling must have a climatic build up which makes the big reveal so much more impacting, least I hope it does?**

**Thanks again to everyone who has left a review, Favorited or are following this story. You have no idea how much it means to me! So please keep those reviews coming. Feedback is always so very much welcomed and appreciated.**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: I had to do a lot research! Writing about places and terminology you are not familiar with requires that. All I can say is that 'I love the internet!' Information at the finger tips. I lot of my research was from reading a particular British Army blog which I feel I should reference, not that I've plagarised anything, but out of respect all the same - britisharmy. wordpress .com**

**Many thanks to Sonia for beta reading this chapter, the first half that is, so if you find any mistakes in the second half it's entirely my fault! **

**Thanks so much to everyone who has left a review, favorited and is following this story. I hope this chapter continues with the same momentum. Please keep the reviews coming! They really do mean a lot.**

**Enjoy.**

* * *

_**Chapter 11. Who are you?**_

* * *

Merlin was amused by the stupefied grin on Arthur's face. Out of all the possible scenarios he had imagined in his head of how, when and in what way Arthur would return, this wasn't one of them.

Arthur standing there in full combat uniform, instead of chain main and red cloak, rifle slung over his shoulder in place of a sword at his hip.

It was surreal. So this was how fate would play out, he mused. He was going to be a medic for Arthur's platoon, none of it was his doing. He didn't tamper with any documents. He had been deployed to this particular tour of duty because he had good recommendations.

Gwen hadn't been happy. "What if you get injured?"

"I'll be fine," he reassured.

"You'll be out on the front lines."

True, and out on those front lines with Arthur, protecting him, once again, like he had long ago, as it should be. And then he nearly did a double take when he saw Gwaine. A big smile crossed his face and he half expected the rest of the Knights of the Round Table to suddenly appear.

"Gwaine's here too," he said to Arthur.

Arthur was scowling in Gwaine's direction, "unfortunately."

Arthur turned back to look at him, a smile hovering on his face. "Least I'll get a reprieve from his mindless chatter now you're here," he continued and patted his shoulder, looking reflective for a moment.

"I'm glad you're here."

Merlin nodded, touched by Arthur's words. Had Arthur missed him?

"Me too."

Gwaine stumbled in their direction. "Emmett!" he exclaimed happily.

Merlin suddenly found himself caught up in a warm embrace. Gwaine was laughing and then pulled back to look at him.

"I can't believe you're here!" he continued, "Are you with us?"

"Yep," Merlin nodded.

Gwaine proceed to pat him on the back, still grinning.

"Well what do you know," he said, baffled, "The odds of that happening."

"You probably shouldn't hug him," Arthur interjected, and Gwaine frowned at him, "You're an officer remember, Gwaine, although sometimes I think you forget that."

Gwaine just gave him a, "_you need your head read"_ sort of look, much to Merlin's amusement.

"It's Emmett," he returned, gesturing in his direction, "He's a mate."

Arthur sighed. "I know that, but technically speaking your wearing a hat, and so is Emmett and you two should be saluting one another, not hugging."

Merlin and Gwaine glanced at each other and quickly saluted, laughing at the same time.

Arthur merely rolled his eyes.

"Arthur and rules," Gwaine began, "he's really anal about them."

"I'm not anal," Arthur protested with a snort.

"Just as well you're not wearing a hat Arthur, I don't have to salute you," Merlin quipped.

"You're supposed to call me 'Sir'," Arthur pointed out with a sigh, "and Gwaine for that matter."

"See - anal," Gwaine hissed in his ear.

Merlin grinned. This was entertaining, just like old times, and he felt incredibly happy.

Arthur's hand rested on his hip as he shook his head.

"So how's Gwen?" Gwaine asked, giving Arthur a sly look.

Arthur seemed to take a sudden interest in the state of his boots.

"Good," Merlin replied, "She's here too."

Arthur quickly glanced at him, shock registering on his face. Merlin hid a smile.

"She's stationed at 34 Field Hospital."

Gwaine grinned. "I'll have to say hello when I get the chance."

"Which won't be for three months," Arthur said in a tight, tense voice his tone clearly indicating that the mere mention of her name unsettled him.

"Unless I get injured," Gwaine continued his voice dreamlike. "What I wouldn't give to see her lovely face again."

Arthur's jaw clenched. Merlin noted the teasing glint in Gwaine's eyes.

"Though I'd expect you'd be the last person she would want to see, eh."

Arthur glared at him, gave a contemptuous huff and stormed off.

"Get your kit ready Gwaine, do something useful for a change," he called over his shoulder.

"He's always giving bloody orders," Gwaine muttered and turned to him, "Glad you're here, Emmett, Arthur has been nothing but a misery guts - dead boring too," he continued, putting an arm across his shoulders.

"Sounds like he's missing Gwen," Merlin said.

"Missing a personality you mean," Gwaine joked.

Merlin suddenly remembered he had to see the Sgt in charge.

"Do you know who Sgt Cabrera is?" he asked Gwaine.

Gwaine searched - with his eyes - through the many different faces milling around.

"That's him over there," he pointed, "standing next to the jeep, the guy with the olive complexion, handsome chap, not as good looking as me of course."

And that's when Merlin had his third shock for the day.

Lancelot? He shook his head to clear it.

"You alright Emmett, you look as if you've seen a ghost?"

He just had, Merlin wryly mused.

* * *

Arthur was pissed off with Gwaine. Trust him to ask Emmett how Gwen was, which he wanted to know of course, but not with Gwaine standing there, taunting him as usual. He was trying to come to terms with the thought of Gwen being here. What he wouldn't give, as Gwaine had said, to see her lovely face again.

_Though I'd expect you'd be the last person she would want to see, eh._

He shut his eyes and sadly that would be true. It was so hard pretending he didn't care when all he wanted to do was find her, hold her, and tell how terribly sorry he was for hurting her. He pictured doing just that, till his heart ached. Why was he torturing himself this way?

What's done is done.

Time to move on and what better way than going out into theatre.

His eyes opened and landed on Major Simon Brown, the Officer commanding the C Company of the 1st Battalion, the Princess of Wales Royal Regiment.

"We're moving out in five minutes," he bellowed.

Arthur shoved his helmet on. He needed to be focused for the sake of the soldier's serving under him. He was, after all, in charge of Platoon Two with an NCO as second in command who happened to be a Sgt Lance Cabrera, a fine solider and well renowned for his dedication to his job. This was his second tour of duty in four years and Arthur valued his experience.

The platoon was made up of three sections, commanded by a corporal, with a lance corporal as second in command and six privates divided into two four-man fire teams. Corporal Hopper, whom everyone called Percy commanded one of the three sections and was good friends with Sgt Cabrera. They both came from the same home town.

Gwaine was in charge of Platoon Three, and as usual made easy friends with everyone.

There was a healthy bantering and friendly rivalry between the two platoons, especially when it came to sports, scratch footy matches, volley ball. There was even a Mario Kart Nintendo competition happening.

* * *

Merlin had hoped that maybe Lancelot, now called Lance, would remember him, after all Lancelot had known about his magic. And when Lance had remarked _you look familiar _Merlin's heart leapt into his throat. But that's all he was to Lancelot, just a familiar face with no associated memory. He tried to bite back his disappointment.

Sgt Lance went on to introduce him to Corporal Percy Hopper, and Merlin felt ready to pass out - _Percival_?

The gods up above were surely laughing at him now. And who else would suddenly appear, Sir Leon? He'd already met Elyan, Gwen's brother, but Elyan had just finished his tour of duty and was now based in Arborfield Garrison.

* * *

As the day wore on there were no more familiar faces. Merlin went about with settling in at Camp Clifton. There was him and one other medic, George, whom he had already met from basic training. George was attached to Gwaine's platoon and was totally addicted to any form of computer games. The only thing they had in common was being a medic, and most of their talk consisted of that. When George wasn't babbling on about some computer game, that went straight over the top of Merlin's head. They also shared the same accommodation. The accommodation consisted of a row of ten man-made tents located behind a series of blast walls with ample room for cots which came complete with fly nets surrounding them. It wasn't too bad.

The medical center was housed in a small concrete building, consisting of two beds and a ton of medical supplies. The two last medics had kept it neat which meant all he and George had to do was restock the cupboards, fill in an inventory of what was needed to pass on to the Commanding Officer.

The shower facilities were what did him in. It was nothing more than a large tent with shower heads dotted around the inside of it. There was no privacy, and the thought of showering naked with other soldiers was far from appealing.

"You alright there Emmett?" Arthur spoke alongside him, making him jump.

He didn't even know Arthur was there.

"You've gone pale," he observed.

"I-I didn't realize the showers ... were so communal," he stammered.

He was expecting some derisive remark, but Arthur merely looked reflective, and then Merlin suddenly remembered how he'd seen the scars on his back and chest that morning at the cottage.

"You don't have to be embarrassed about it," Arthur said, a hint of sympathy in his voice.

Merlin glanced at him.

He could see that Arthur was curious, even though he'd never asked about the scars before or how he came about getting them, but it wasn't from lack of wanting to.

"I'm not embarrassed," he quickly replied, "just that it leads to questions, questions I can't answer."

Hoping Arthur would get the hint and not ask. It would mean he'd have to lie, and Merlin was sick of lying.

"I understand," Arthur nodded thoughtfully.

Merlin shot him a thankful grin.

"I guess you officers have the best sleeping tent?" he quipped to lighten the mood.

"Well it's got to have its perks, least you don't have to share with Gwaine."

"I have to share with George, and all he does is talk about computers."

"All Gwaine talks about is himself."

They exchanged a short amused laugh.

"Except for you, you never talk about yourself," Arthur said, his curiosity aroused.

"There's not much to say," Emmett replied.

But Arthur didn't believe him. Everyone had something to say about themselves, their past, but it's like Emmett had just materialized out of thin air. He was just here, living in their present, and yet almost like he'd always been. It mystified him - _you really are a riddle Emmett._

"Go have a shower, I'll stand guard."

"Really?"

"Yeah, just don't use up all the hot water."

Emmett looked strangely touched. "Thanks," he mumbled.

Arthur shut the tent flap behind him, and watched as George approached, towel slung over his shoulder, a toiletry bag in his hand. The boy really did look like the bonafide computer nerd.

"Showers full," Arthur said to him.

George peered around him.

"I thought only Emmett was in there ..."

"Come back in five minutes," Arthur said bluntly, cutting him off.

"Um okay."

"That's 'okay Sir', to you."

"I mean Sir," George mumbled, and quickly hurried away.

Okay, so he pulled rank. He kind of liked doing that when it suited him.

* * *

The moment Merlin entered the cookhouse, shared by everyone, seeing Arthur sitting at the same table with Gwaine, Lancelot and Percival was too uncanny. They were all drawn to each other, and not knowing even knowing why - just that it was instinctual for them, he guessed, on a subconscious level.

Gwaine glanced his way.

"Hey Emmett, come sit with us."

Merlin smiled. He was part of the gang, just as it had been.

* * *

Life was pretty hectic, long hours and hard work of a totally different type. Whether it was standing in a guard tower for hours on end, driving vehicles on long patrols or humping kit on foot patrols, everyday consisted of rolling from one job to the next without much of a break, if any, in between.

Arthur never ended up in the guard tower, being an officer and was mostly on patrol. He felt safer on the vehicle patrols, at least they had some protection from the armoured vehicles, but the foot patrols were another matter, and he always seemed to end up getting stuck with those.

Miles of endless walking, often open targets for insurgents ... not that he'd seen any action yet. Emmett was always on the patrols, and Arthur found his presence strangely soothing.

He didn't go anywhere without his medic, Emmett. Since when had he'd gotten so damn dependent on him? He couldn't figure it out. Every time they went out on patrol he'd panic if Emmett didn't show up. Of course he knew he couldn't go out on patrol without him, but all the same, having Emmett there was _right_ somehow and without him everything was _wrong_.

Sometimes the patrols lasted several days. They would sleep out under the stars, living on ration packs. The nights gradually grew colder now that it was nearing November and getting closer to winter.

They would catch an hour's sleep whenever they could, dropping back packs to the ground but keeping rifles within hands reach. Just in case. And that was his life for now. He didn't mind it either.

Having Emmett there made the sense of loss he'd been experiencing the last couple of months better. And it really was ... well odd.

* * *

Three weeks in and there had been no problems with insurgents, the men often joking, though somewhat nervously, about the calm before the storm. Of course it would be too good to last, and Arthur tasted his first skirmish just two hours into the foot patrol.

The bullets seemed to come out of nowhere. Arthur quickly hit the ground, raising his head, glancing fervently around him, looking for where the insurgents could be.

"Medic!" someone yelled, "We need a medic!"

Emmett, who was not far from him hurried to his feet, and ran towards the injured soldier, putting his own life on the line, dodging bullets in an attempt to do so, making Arthur's heart jump in his throat.

He would kill him later as a mixture of relief and anger hit him, relief that Emmett wasn't shot, anger that he took such a stupid risk.

The skirmish didn't last long. Lance, with all of his experience, and knowing every tactical manoeuvre had it soon sorted and Merlin had administered first aid to the injured soldier.

The Medical Emergency Response team soon arrived, and airlifted the injured solider by helicopter.

Arthur confronted Emmett.

"Next time wait till it's less dangerous," he hissed furiously to him.

"That's my job Arthur," he calmly replied, "to save lives."

"That's 'Sir' to you and you're not much good to us dead!"

Emmett merely smiled.

"Were you worried about me?"

_Don't be ridiculous_ he was about to say and frowned, another déjà vu?

"Good medics are hard to find," he said gruffly.

But well, yeah, he was worried about him. By the look of things he wasn't the only one either, given the way Sgt Cabrera proceeded to grill him about being careful.

Everyone liked Emmett. Arthur often noticed the way Lance and Percy chatted and joked with him, George trailed after him like a lap dog. Every single soldier in the platoon knew his name.

When inside the base patrol camp he was the go-to-guy for routine medical problems, whether it was to ask for sunscreen, look at the blisters on their feet or even just to chat. Emmett was a good listener, and people were drawn towards him. And he intrigued Arthur - _who was he?_ Because he really was like no one he'd ever met before, and yet he felt like he'd _always _known him.

* * *

When they did have free time, recreational activities generally were about video game contests, darts, table tennis and often Poker, and other card games. Tonight, was Poker night, and the group at the card table consisted of Arthur, Percy, Tom, George, Lance, Gwaine, and a reluctant Emmett who played on Gwaine's insistence.

"What I wouldn't give for a beer right now," Gwaine murmured.

"Is that all you think about?" Arthur replied.

"That and getting laid," Percy teased.

"And his hair," Lance added.

The men sniggered.

"It's all about keeping things in perspective gentlemen," Gwaine retorted.

Merlin acceded defeat early in the game. By the end of the night it was only Arthur and Gwaine left.

"Let's up the stakes," Gwaine suggested.

Arthur raised an eyebrow.

"Let's bet something other than money," he continued.

"Only if I get to state what it is," Arthur returned, leaning back in his chair.

Gwaine took a moment to consider.

"Alright then Princess what will it be," he grinned.

"If you lose you have to get a number three."

The smile left Gwaine's face.

"He won't don't it," Arthur said smugly, "He's too vain."

The men laughed. Really the things they did to pass the time, Merlin mused. Gwaine and his precious hair was a running joke, he was always getting teased about it.

Gwaine folded his arms, glanced from Arthur and the lads.

"Alright you're on and let's make it a number one."

Arthur raised an eyebrow surprised. "What?"

"If I lose I'll have a number one, if you lose same goes for you."

Arthur shrugged and smiled lazily.

"I'm not vain, I don't care."

Gwaine just grinned. "We'll see when the time comes and Gwen won't be able to run her fingers through your pretty blonde locks because you'll have no hair left."

Arthur glared at Gwaine.

"Oh that's right," he continued, "I forgot you dumped her."

Merlin noticed the way Arthur's jaw clenched. Gwaine really did push it too far at times, though he knew Gwaine was still annoyed with what he'd done to Gwen.

"Are you sure about this Arthur," Merlin began.

Arthur just waved a nonchalant hand in the air.

"I won't lose," he said confidently, "and Gwaine's right," he continued glaring at him, "I did dump her and it's not as if I'm about to see her anytime soon."

"You might, she is at Camp Bastion," Merlin pointed out.

Arthur frowned at him.

"So what if I do," he sighed, "no doubt she hates me now and I don't blame her."

Merlin noted the sudden bleak look in his eyes before he quickly sucked it up and smiled at Gwaine.

"You ready to lose?"

Gwaine just smiled and shook his head. "Are you?"

Naturally Arthur lost. Gwaine couldn't look happier. Arthur threw the cards down on the table in annoyance.

Merlin hid a smile and shook his head.

"I did try to warn you," he murmured, under his breath.

"It's just hair, what do I care."

"Right then Princess let's get those shearers out, eh," Gwaine grinned, "I'm sure Tom would like to do the honours."

* * *

Gwaine happily shoved a mirror in his face after Tom had finished, and Arthur did feel bald. He looked it too. Famous last words, _what do I care, _because after seeing what he looked like with hair 3mm long he had to accede it wasn't a good look. His nose looked bigger and wasn't his best asset to begin with, now it was just worse.

"Not such a pretty boy now Arthur," Gwaine quipped, running a hand over his head. "Feel free to state the bets anytime."

Arthur pulled his head back and glared up at him.

He was the butt of everyone's jokes once again.

His eyes rested on Emmett. Emmett quickly looked away and busied himself with clearing up the cards, but Arthur noticed the smile and the way his shoulders shook, obviously with controlled mirth.

He resisted the urge to throw something at him.

"It's not that funny."

Emmett made some lame attempt at sobering up, but failing.

"Oh, but it is and the look on your face," he grinned, "priceless."

Right that was it. Arthur picked up the first thing he could find; a pair of dice and threw them at him.

"Ow," Emmett exclaimed, putting up his arms to defend himself.

"C'mon Emmett, it's just plastic don't be such a girl."

The young man glared at him. "Hard plastic and I'm not picking them off the floor."

Arthur folded his arms and smiled lazily.

"As your commanding officer Emmett I order you to pick them up."

Emmett shook his head, looking stubborn. "We're off duty and that means I don't have to do what you say."

"You're forgetting that when we're on the front lines we're technically never off duty," he said with a smug grin, "that means you can pick them up."

"Fine then," Emmett returned and bending down he picked up the dice scattered around his feet.

Arthur heard him mutter 'prat' along with a list of other interesting names.

"You know the amount of times I could charge you with insubordination over these last three weeks," Arthur began, "I lose count."

Emmett straightened up and grinned at him.

"But you won't."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Because you like it."

Arthur frowned for a moment, and well Emmett was right. And how did he know that?

"Besides you need someone like me," he continued, dumping the dice back in the box that contained an array of different card games.

"I do?"

"Yeah," Emmett nodded and smiled, "to stop your head from getting bigger than it already is."

Smart ass, Arthur mused and couldn't help a smile in return.

* * *

They were out on another foot patrol the following day. Arthur pulled him aside.

"You, stay next to me where I can keep an eye on you," he ordered.

"Yes Sir!"

Arthur, being protective and nothing had changed, Merlin mused.

"We need to keep you alive, you are the medic after all Lance Corporal," he said, in way of explanation.

But Merlin knew it was more than that, so did Arthur, even if he couldn't admit it.

* * *

Arthur was unable to explain the protectiveness, the _must look after_ Emmett. He could rationalize and see that it was nothing more than he felt towards his sister, which was true in part, except there was something else, something he didn't want to acknowledge, a need ... he needed him.

It was as simple as that, but why? All he knew was that he felt complete with the lanky young man by his side. And the funny thing was that Emmett also seemed well aware of it. He knew how to soothe him when he felt fractious and restless, knew how to effectively put him in his place and make him see reason when he couldn't.

How was it that Emmett knew him so well?

* * *

Emmett tended to a variety of minor wounds, mostly blistered feet as they rested in the last rays of the setting sun, and made camp for the night. Arthur watched the way Emmett's hands tended to the wounds, so capable and competent and resourceful and so like the hands in his sketches of old. It was a coincidence, right? Goose bumps popped up under his skin. It had to be? It wasn't possible that he could draw a person before ever meeting them he silently scoffed ... was it?

"You have magic in those hands Emmett?" he lightly quipped and the young man froze.

He was joking of course, because well there was no such thing as magic, but Emmett's reaction mystified him. He could almost swear he looked guilty, but nah, he was imaging things. He had to be, but the unsettled feeling in the pit of his gut told him that there was something more to Emmett, and that something was important. If only he could recall what it was. He felt it hovering on the fringes of his mind, but he just couldn't grasp it and it was damn frustrating.

"I wish," Emmett replied, and continued with what he was doing.

* * *

The nights were getting cold and camping out wasn't fun. The soldiers generally huddled close together now, for warmth. Arthur was lying next to Emmett, glad he had remembered his beanie and gazing up at the millions of stars. It still took his breath away. He'd never seen stars like this in England. Here, it was as if the milky galaxy was endless, millions of stars as far as the eye could see.

His thoughts drifted to Gwen. She wouldn't see the stars like this at Camp Bastion, too many lights there. You had to be out in the middle of the desert to appreciate it. And what was she doing right now? No doubt she would have already made a lot of friends, had she met another man yet? Hating the thought as soon as it took hold, and it would be too soon wouldn't it? Did she think of him as much as he thought of her? Don't be stupid, he chided himself.

"Does she hate me?" he asked, as he continued to stare up at those stars.

Emmett took so long to answer that Arthur began to dread his reply.

"She doesn't talk about you," he finally replied.

That meant she hated him, terrific, and now he was sorry he even asked.

"She doesn't hate you," Emmett continued.

It was small consolation and Arthur didn't believe him.

"You never told her the truth?"

"No," he paused, "but not from lack of wanting to."

Arthur knew he could trust him _with his life_ with a lot of things. And he was the only person who he could be totally honest with. It was a comforting thought.

"You think I should have been honest with her?"

Emmett turned his head to look at him.

"Why did you lie?"

Arthur sighed heavily. "I didn't want to give her false hope," he murmured, "she talked about her dreams. I couldn't chance them being squashed, not for me, she could do better than me, find a man who had parents that wouldn't hate her for a start."

It hurt talking about it, her, his feelings for her and letting go.

"So, better to break her heart instead?" Emmett spoke quietly, questioning.

"She'll get over it," he sighed, rolling over onto his side.

But would he?

"She probably has by now," he muttered.

"I don't think so."

That's not what he wanted to hear. But Emmett let the matter rest, and Arthur was grateful for that. He never was one for pushing a matter further than he wanted it to be. He was strangely astute in that way.

* * *

Arthur was much subdued the next day, Merlin observed. Talking about Gwen was obviously a sore subject for him. So why did he ask if she hated him? He'd almost sounded dejected about it. He could understand Arthur's reasoning in part, but really he should have been honest with Gwen rather than drive a painful wedge between them. So what if she hoped, so what if they had to wait years. But it was typical Arthur, play the sacrificial lamb and just sever everything. He was particularly stubborn too when it came to his emotions, often hiding what he really felt. Acting as if he didn't care when he did. And he still painfully cared for Gwen that much was obvious. Merlin could clearly see he regretted his rash actions now, but knowing Arthur he'd just go on pretending as if it was all fine, that he'd done the right thing.

Merlin sighed and longed for the return to base, for some seclusion which was almost impossible in this place. He just wanted to be alone with his thoughts for a while. He had things to mull over and especially Arthur's comment late yesterday '_you have magic in those hands'._ Why on earth had Arthur said something like that? It had momentarily shocked him, causing his heart rate to speed up in that uncomfortable way. He longed for the moment Arthur would remember him to arrive, and there were so many times Merlin thought '_was it now'_ only to be disappointed.

He often looked up to find Arthur's thoughtful gaze upon him, a question in the depths of his eyes - _who are you?_

It's me Arthur, its Merlin he felt like saying. But there was no point if Arthur didn't remember.

* * *

Merlin was surprised to see Morgana in the cookhouse when they'd returned from patrol. What was she doing here? Her eyes rested on him and a warm smile crossed her face.

He stood there awkwardly, unsure of what to say and do given their last encounter.

He had seen her the following morning of her birthday party. She looked pale and sad and his heart went out to her. '_I don't think any less of you'_ he had told her.

She rose from her chair and walked towards him. "Emmett," she breathed, looking happy to see him.

"Hello Morgana," he smiled.

She hugged him and he patted her back in much the same way he patted Gwen's. She smelt nice and he was well aware he didn't, wanting to wait later at night before having a shower. He couldn't always expect Arthur to stand guard for him. And Arthur was currently distracted by thoughts of Gwen.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, pulling back.

His eyes met hers.

"I'm with the Signal Squadron, we're here to make sure the communications are up to scratch, you know routine checkups."

"When did you arrive at Camp Bastion?"

"Two months ago," she said, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "And you're the medic with Arthur's platoon? Small world isn't it?"

"Yeah, feels that way and how did you know that?"

"Gwen told me."

"You saw Gwen?"

"A week ago, we had a long girly chat and shared a pizza."

Hmm, pizza and his stomach grumbled reminding him that he hadn't eaten for hours. It grumbled loud enough for Morgana to hear, and she gave an amused smile.

"Go get something to eat before you fade away to nothing and join me at the table."

He nodded and moved on.

"Where's Arthur?" she asked.

He glanced over his shoulder at her. Did she possibly care now?

"I think he went to have a shower."

* * *

There was no hot water. Arthur wasn't happy. All he wanted was a hot shower. Was that too much to bloody ask for? Every day it had been the same for the last week, and it would have to happen now the nights were cold. Needless to say it was a quick shower. Least he didn't have to worry about washing his hair and that saved time. Turning the taps off, he reached for his towel, quickly drying himself and wrapping the towel around his waist when Gwaine walked in.

"Water's cold," he told him.

Gwaine swore, then his eyes rested on his hair and he smiled.

"So what are we gonna bet tonight?"

"Don't think I have anything left to bet with," Arthur dryly returned, "you already have all of my money, well money I currently had on me plus my expensive bottle of MacCutcheon Scotch."

"I'm looking forward to drinking that when we get back."

Arthur glared at him.

"Not to mention my 22 carat gold cuff links."

"And that expensive bottle of cologne," Gwaine added.

"Plus my Armani suit."

"And your leather jacket."

Arthur's eyes narrowed, he'd forgotten about that one.

"Think I'll call it quits," he said with a pat to Gwaine's back and went to leave.

"I'm sure I can think of something else for you," Gwaine called after him, "like how about your expensive sports car?"

"Dream on Gwaine," Arthur called back.

From here on out he was never playing Poker with Gwaine again, he silently fumed. Because he was beginning to come to the conclusion that he seldom beat him. He'd learned his lesson, but then he'd said that to himself numerous times before, and Gwaine always managed to talk him around. Not anymore. He was now officially done betting anything with Gwaine.

Getting dressed Arthur made his way to the cookhouse, grabbed a plate of food and sat down at the table next to Emmett. His eyes fell on Morgana. She glanced up at him, her eyes widened before an amused smile crossed her face.

"You look awful," she sniggered, "what were you thinking?"

Terrific, he sighed. He had forgotten sometimes their paths did cross. He knew she was still angry at him for dumping Gwen, had given him nothing but a hard time since. I did it to protect her, he felt like yelling back, you think I wanted to! But it was better no one else knew and especially her.

He wasn't going to tell her about his bet with Gwaine, but it was only a matter of time before Gwaine joined their table, and told her all about it.

She smirked at him in that annoying way.

"I can't think of a better person who deserved what he got," she said.

"You can't think of one nice thing to say Morgana?" he snapped.

"Not to you."

He gripped the knife and fork tightly in his hands.

"It's just hair, it'll grow back," he shrugged and continued eating.

"I saw Gwen last week," Morgana spoke, and the fork froze halfway to his mouth.

"How is she?" Emmett asked.

"Good, she misses you though."

Arthur swallowed, his appetite suddenly deserting him.

"And she's definitely over you Arthur," Morgana continued, giving him a pointed look.

He forced a smile to his lips. "Great."

* * *

Arthur didn't hang around, Merlin observed. And Morgana was being unfair. Okay so she didn't know the full story, but Arthur was still her brother. And what Uther had done, Arthur shouldn't have to pay for it.

He went in search of her, found her sitting down on the sofa in the recreation room which consisted mostly of soldiers from her squadron as the majority from his had retired for the night, being tired from the two day trek.

"You look tired," she observed.

"I am."

So tired that he'd rather be in bed right now, but this was important and he didn't know when he'd next get the chance to talk to Morgana. Her squadron would be leaving tomorrow.

They sat in quiet contemplation for a moment before he spoke.

"Why do you give him such a hard time?"

"He deserves it."

He shook his head. She was as stubborn as Arthur in an entirely different way.

"You don't know what Uther said to him on that balcony," he began, "what he threatened him with, maybe what he might threaten he'd do to Gwen."

Morgana went quiet and he took that as an encouraging sign. If only he could make her see reason. Hate wasn't the way to deal with things.

"Why are you defending him?" she inquired.

"Because he still cares for Gwen, even if you can't see it."

Indecision skittered across her face and something else; regret.

"I don't mean to hurt him," she murmured, so softly he barely heard the words.

"You're fight is with Uther not Arthur."

She dropped her face from his gaze.

"I know, I just didn't think it would turn out the way it did."

He took her hand in his.

"I can understand why you hate Uther, but look around you Morgana, look at how many decades the Afghan people have suffered through wars and tyranny and yet they still have hope."

She lightly squeezed his fingers.

"I know what you are saying Emmett, but neither we're they betrayed by their own parent."

Silence fell. She had a point and what did he say to make it right?

"Have you ever been betrayed by a parent?" she softly asked, a hint of bitterness lacing her voice.

He slowly shook his head. His mother loved him, even his father for the brief time they knew each other - _I've seen enough in you to know you'll make me proud._

"They loved me, for the short time I knew them," he murmured at length, heart heavy.

"You are kind Emmett, don't ever lose that. Don't become jaded like me."

Those words had a way of haunting him.

* * *

Arthur was up early. He couldn't sleep despite his tiredness and went to the cookhouse to eat breakfast. He was hungry, not finishing his dinner last night because of Morgana and what she had said _Gwen is definitely over you. _And that should make him happy, shouldn't it? So why was he feeling so damn depressed?

He watched her slide into the seat opposite him and waited for some derisive remark, and when none was forthcoming he glanced at her perplexed.

She looked deep in thought, sad almost, and it puzzled him.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"I'm sorry," she said with a deep breath, "I didn't mean for things to turn out the way they did with father."

Was he hearing things now? What was with the sudden change of heart?

"I-I didn't mean for you to get hurt," she sighed, "or Gwen."

Arthur sat there gobsmacked.

"I just wanted to make father angry."

"Why?"

He had to know because it had always confused him. But she silently shook her head. Deep shadows crossed her eyes.

"I have my reasons," she murmured, voice hoarse, "I can't tell you, I can't tell anyone."

He was mesmerized by the sudden pain in her eyes and something akin to dread hit him. What had father done to her? It had to be bad to put that pain in her eyes, for her to hate him so much? Why couldn't she tell him?

"Look after him," she softly spoke.

He was confused. "Who?"

"Emmett, we can't lose him."

Arthur frowned. _I can't lose him - he's my friend_ the words swirled through his head, words full of pain and desperation. Spots swam before his eyes, he wanted to hold onto those words, hold onto the young man who had uttered them as he held him, his friend _Merlin._

The spoon in his hand fell to the table with a loud thump.

"Arthur?" Morgana spoke suddenly, her voice sharp and worried.

He took in a short painful breath and raised his eyes to her concerned face, feeling shaken as an array of emotions he didn't understand swamped through him.

What the hell? Tears burned the back of his eyes, and he fought for control over the deep intense feelings. There was something seriously wrong with him.

"As if I would let anything happen to him," he murmured. His voice thick and low _and it was the truth_.

Not if he could help it, but Emmett, at times, was a law unto himself _always risking his life_.

Morgana's face softened and she gave him the warmest smile, a smile he hadn't seen in a long time.

"You feel it too don't you?" she murmured.

Her words startled him and his throat suddenly went dry. He didn't know what the hell it was he felt, and it terrified him. It felt like his head was about to explode.

"How important he is," she continued.

His heart twisted into a knot. He wasn't the only one who felt it? Emmett was the most important thing to happen in his life and for what reasons he couldn't comprehend, only he knew he couldn't be without him. And it seemed he wasn't the only one.

He glanced at Morgana's questioning face.

"Yeah," he muttered hoarsely, rubbing his forehead, "he is important."

And why? _Who was he_? What was it about him? Why was he so damn important and why did he mean so much to him? Not only that, but he dreamt about him, hell he even drew pictures of him! Dreams were one thing, he could almost rationalize them but what he'd just felt ... it wasn't a dream. He thought harder, his head aching. And if it wasn't a dream, then what was it?

* * *

**A/N: The moment draws closer! Please review and let me know what you think! What you liked, what you didn't like and what you would like to happen.**


	13. Chapter 13

_**Chapter 12. You're the only friend I have**_

* * *

_Who was he? What was it about him? Why was he so damn important and why did he mean so much to him? Not only that, but he dreamt about him, hell he even drew pictures of him! Dreams were one thing, he could almost rationalize them but what he'd just felt ... it wasn't a dream. He thought harder, his head aching. And if it wasn't a dream, then what was it?_

Focus. He had to focus. There was a new threat of insurgent attacks in the Green Zone. That didn't leave much time for musing over _whom the hell was Emmett_, not that he'd forgotten, just that he didn't know what to do about it, yet; except wait for the right moment to come along.

Arthur didn't like waiting. He was the kind of guy who wanted to know and immediately. Then he could act on what needed to be done. But this ... this was unfamiliar territory for him; feelings that didn't make sense, random words in his head and weird, confusing dreams. The only thing he could really conclusively put together was that, having lived in a previous life was becoming highly probable. Problem was he couldn't remember it. The dreams were fragmented with no sense of place or self identity. Who was he then? What was he? And what did Merlin, aka Emmett, mean to him? How were they connected?

It was enough to do his head in and whenever he thought too long and hard about it, he just ended up with a massive headache. Which is why he had to focus on the here and now, not what was.

Both his and Gwaine's patrols were sent out to establish blocking positions on the dominant ridgeline in the green zone, preventing the insurgent forces from fleeing to the North, and ensuring that friendly forces clearing through the area had immediate fire support. They supported a team of ANA and Royal Engineers who constructed no fewer than seven permanent checkpoints on the high ground which now provided security for the people of Deh Adam Khan. Some of the checkpoints were constructed in the shadow of what the locals called 'The Red Fort' an immense mud and earth wall forming a semi-circular ring of defenses on the high ground. And this particular patrol went on for days which meant camping out under the stars once again, but whereas in previous patrols it might only be a night or two, this time it was looking more like seven.

On the third day it rained, nonstop, turning everything to muddy slush. It was hard going with being weighted down by the heavy kits they wore. The nights were dropping to temperatures approaching zero Celsius.

The rain eased up on the fifth day, improving morale within the platoons, even if just fractionally. They were setting up camp for the night. Emmett was sitting on the ground, sorting out medical supplies in his kit, which reminded Arthur about the blisters on his feet. They were getting worse and he really should get them treated.

Emmett looked up when he approached.

"You're the medic," Arthur began.

"Hmm, yeah, last I checked," he returned with a grin.

Ha, ha, he was a regular wise ass guy.

"What's wrong?" he continued.

"My feet," he muttered grimly, "blisters."

He always did find it hard to ask for help, or admit to any sort of weakness.

"That seems to be the common problem around here," Emmett said, patting the ground next to him, "sit down and I'll take a look at them."

Arthur wearily sat down on the ground and Emmett went to take his boots off, as if it were the normal and natural thing to do.

"I got it," he muttered to him, "you're a medic, not a servant."

Emmett just gave him a funny sort of look. "Sometimes it feels like the same thing."

Arthur began untying the laces and frowned at him. "You say the oddest things."

He slipped his boots off followed by his socks and Emmett began to inspect his feet.

"Shit Arthur!" he exclaimed, his eyes flying to his face, "How can you let it get that bad?"

Its 'Sir to you' he was about to correct, but there was no point. It didn't matter how many times he told Emmett, he still called him Arthur.

"It's just a couple of blisters," he shrugged and Emmett glared pointedly at him.

"Blisters that have now become second degree burns, and I've seen blisters bad enough that soles of men's feet are peeling off!" he exclaimed, grabbing his foot by his ankle and shoving it in his face, almost causing him to fall backwards. "Just like yours."

It really was bad and Arthur suddenly felt queasy.

Emmett let go of his foot and started rifling through his medical kit, muttering under his breath.

"I keep telling everyone not to ignore blisters, but does anyone listen to me, no, no they don't. I don't know why I bother saying anything at all. I might as well keep my mouth shut."

Arthur rolled his eyes and tuned out Emmett's ramblings. The soles of his feet felt like they were on fire. It hurt so much and yeah he should have done something about it earlier.

Emmett applied some sort of thin gauze he hadn't seen before to his feet.

"What is that?" he asked.

"It's usually used for burns, but it works well with blisters that have become as bad as burns," he stated, looking at him levelly.

Emmett placed a thicker white padding of gauze over the sole of his foot before wrapping it with a crepe bandage.

"Is that necessary," he began, but Emmett glared at him so fiercely he shut his mouth.

He glanced over at Lance and Percy who were being entertained by some story Gwaine was telling them before bursting out in laughter.

Emmett murmured something, words Arthur didn't know and he quickly looked at him.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing," Emmett returned as tingling warmth spread through his feet, and the pain lessened considerably.

His gaze flew to Emmett's face, surprised.

"What did you do?" he asked, "it feels better."

Emmett shrugged nonchalantly. "Magic hands remember," he lightly quipped with a quick smile.

Arthur blinked, that's right; he had commented the other day _you have magic in those hands._

Again the questions whirled through his head. _Who was he? What was it about him? Why did he mean so much to him?_

Maybe now was the time to ask.

"You said something interesting," he began, glancing at the young medic, "back when we were all staying at the cottage."

Those were fond distant memories now.

"What did I say?" Emmett asked over his shoulder, as he packed medical supplies back into his kit.

"Something along the lines of, 'meeting someone and it's like you've known that person all of your life but you haven't'," he continued, pulling his socks back on.

Emmett turned slowly, their eyes met and held.

"Yeah I remember saying that," he nodded, a curiosity in his eyes, "Why? Have you experienced something like that?"

Arthur pulled a boot on, yes and he was looking straight at him.

"You could say that," Arthur sighed, "and he's sitting right here."

Emmett was slow to catch on, but then a sudden realization dawned on his face, his eyes widened.

"What ... me?" he gasped.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Yes - you."

This is where he expected Emmett to burst out laughing and tell him that it was ridiculous, but Emmett had gone strangely quietly. He was silent for so long, Arthur thought he might not answer. When he finished lacing up his boots he glanced at the young man and was struck by the sudden turbulent emotions in his wide blue eyes.

"Emmett?" he began.

"I feel the same way," he murmured and Arthur froze.

Silence fell again. Arthur's head was spinning. He didn't know what to say at first. Emmett's words deeply unnerving him, so he asked the obvious.

"Do you believe in reincarnation?"

"Yes," Emmett hesitantly replied.

He had to, the evidence was right there before his eyes in the form and shape of Arthur.

Arthur obviously had the feeling of knowing him, but he didn't remember. Would he ever remember? Merlin tried to swallow the disappointment he felt and picked up a twig from the ground.

"So you and I could have lived before, and we knew each other?" Arthur continued, sounding somewhat dazed.

Merlin twirled the twig around with his fingers, and he could see Arthur was struggling to get his head around the whole concept.

"Possibly," he returned slowly, "probably."

Arthur took a deep breath. "That makes sense then," he murmured, a look of relief in his eyes, "I'm not losing my mind."

"Well that's debatable," Merlin quipped.

Arthur managed a brief smile and patted his back. He struggled to his feet.

"Thanks," he murmured, "for fixing them," he indicated to his feet.

"You're welcome."

Arthur turned to leave, but then stopping, he glanced over his shoulder at him, a slight frown denting his forehead as if wrestling with a troubled thought.

"Something bad happened," he murmured, a distant pained look in his eyes that caused Merlin's heart to constrict.

This really was tortuous and he swallowed the lump in his throat ... yeah, _you died_.

"I guess that's why no one remembers living before," he continued, running a hand up the back of his neck, "probably just as well I don't remember."

With that Arthur turned around and limped away.

The twig in Merlin's hand snapped in half.

* * *

Merlin sat on the ridgeline, watching the sun set. He felt bone wearily tired. Tears pricked his eyes.

_Probably just as well I don't remember._ Lucky Arthur, Merlin almost begrudged the rest of them not remembering. It was a burden and a curse. Least it felt that way at times, being the only one who did remember. He felt so alone ... alone with his knowledge and lived experience, even his magic.

A tear slid down his cheek and he hastily swiped it away. Really Merlin, he silently chided himself, you're well over a thousand years old, and you're sitting here crying like a boy. A chuckle escaped his throat followed by a half sob.

The sun sunk lower in the sky.

Just that he missed him, Arthur. Sure, Arthur was here in person, there was a connection, but he didn't remember.

And it wasn't the same.

He heard footsteps approaching, but didn't bother to look around. Instead his eyes remained fixed on the sun as he watched it slowly sink into the earth.

Someone sat down next to him. It was Lancelot, Lance now.

"Hell of a place, but you have to admit the sunsets are beautiful," Lancelot spoke.

Merlin didn't say anything. He just wanted to be alone with his troubling thoughts.

"You're strangely quiet," Lancelot continued, concerned, "it's not like you."

He could hear the questions in his voice.

"Just thinking," he murmured in reply.

There was silence again, and Merlin found the silence and Lancelot's presence soothing.

"Why did you join the Army?" Merlin asked him at length.

"For a noble cause," Lancelot replied, "End terrorism, bring peace."

Lancelot always was noble, Merlin wryly amused, like now, nothing had changed.

"What about you?"

"Once I thought maybe I can make a difference, change things because so many things needed fixing," he sighed, and he'd screwed up before. What if he screwed it up again? "You know, make everything as it should be."

"You can't carry the weight of the world upon your shoulders."

Merlin didn't know how to reply to that. No one knew for just how long he had in fact carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. But strangely enough, Lancelot's words comforted him. He wasn't really alone, only in his memories. The people he'd once loved were here and they cared, like they had once done.

Lancelot stood up and Merlin felt him place a hand on his shoulder.

"Come back and join the camp, it's not good for a soldier to sit alone in quiet contemplation for too long."

Merlin looked up at him. Lancelot held out a hand and smiled. Merlin took the offered hand and Lancelot pulled him to his feet. His hand came to rest on his shoulder.

"You're a good man Emmett," he said.

"How do you know?" he questioned.

A warm, sincere smile crossed Lancelot's face.

"I just do, I feel it, there's something about you."

* * *

The following day the insurgents attacked. They took refuge behind the safety of a stone wall. It was mayhem, bullets flying everywhere and Arthur had Emmett right where he wanted him. At least he did. Soon as someone yelled medic he was about to run off, but Arthur stopped him.

"It's too dangerous."

"I'll be fine, I'm good at dodging bullets," he grinned.

"I knew you were stupid, but not that stupid," he hissed.

"No, I really am that stupid," Emmett continued _and it you don't believe me, watch._

Arthur went to grab him by his shirt, but Emmett was off and running up the ridge. He swore under his breath. He was going to be the death of him! His heart couldn't keep taking this.

"I'm going after him," he muttered to Percy, "watch my back."

"Sir," Percy began, "I don't think it's wise."

He was beyond listening. He wasn't going to chance losing him, and he ran the several hundred meters to the top of the ridge. He heard a bullet whiz by his ear. Another bullet hit the ground by his foot, spraying sand into his eyes. His heart beat wildly with adrenalin.

He hit the ground next to Emmett, who was tending to the injured soldier and Emmett's eyes widened at the sight of him.

"Arthur, what are you doing?" he exclaimed.

"That's Sir to you!" he yelled.

Bullets hit the ground around them. They were sitting ducks out here.

"Can you stand at all?" he quickly asked the injured private, who nodded.

"I think so."

Arthur's eyes met Emmett's.

"Get the injured soldier the hell out of here, behind the wall where it's safe, I've got your back."

Emmett hesitated and Arthur looked into his suddenly pale face, exasperated.

"Just go!"

He could see the torn indecision in Emmett's eyes.

"You could get shot," he stammered.

"So could you," he returned angrily, his frustration mounting.

Did he never do as he was told?

"That's an order!"

Arthur scrambled further up the ridge to give Emmett and the injured private a chance at escaping, and then he indicated for Emmett to go.

He might be short sighted but his long distance vision more than made up for it. He spotted the insurgent move behind the far bushes.

Arthur was a crack shot with a rifle.

"You're mine," he muttered and pulled the trigger.

He saw the insurgent fall and a smug smile lifted the corners of his mouth. That was one down. A flurry of bullets hit the ground around him, least it would be at him and not Emmett.

"Get back Sir," he heard Lance yell from the other vantage point, "I'll cover you."

Lance was in just as much trouble as him, even more if he fell back.

"Not without you Sgt," he yelled back.

Lance gave him a wry grin. "You ready to run?"

Arthur nodded, his throat going dry.

"Fall back!" Lance ordered.

Arthur hastily scrambled to his feet, along with the machine gunner and Lance and they ran down the ridge, gun shots ringing through the air. He expected to be hit at any given moment and the three of them dropped down behind a rocky ledge, out of rifle range, hitting the ground hard to lay low.

His heart was hammering in his chest, his breathing ragged.

Lance looked at him. "Haven't done that before have you?"

Arthur managed a shaky smile. "Not in this lifetime."

Not at all sure why he said that, only that it felt weird, like he had done this before ... just not in this way. But they were still not safe.

"What now?"

Lance grinned. "Now we don't have to do anything," he began, "here comes the artillery."

Arthur glanced over his shoulder and saw two tanks come rolling into view, moving in the direction of the insurgents.

"About bloody time," he muttered, his head falling back onto the ground with relief.

* * *

He leant against the wall, his legs barely able to support him and slid down to the ground, resting his arms on his raised knees.

"You need this," Gwaine spoke, suddenly appearing out of nowhere and handing him a rolled cigarette.

Arthur took it from him and drew back, his hand shook.

"Had a taste of the action Princess," Gwaine quipped, but Arthur could tell he was relieved to see him, "you're looking a bit green there."

Yet he felt strangely exhilarated.

Emmett came into view, looking worried and harassed; his eyes searching the soldiers before landing on him. He didn't miss the instant relief in his eyes.

He hurried over towards him.

He was a sight for sore eyes, not that Arthur wanted to admit it to himself, and fought to hold onto his anger instead. What Emmett did was foolish, risky and didn't he at all think about his own safety?

"Next time you pull a stunt like that again if the insurgents don't shoot you I will!"

Emmett lowered his eyes and at least looked a bit contrite, but not nearly enough to satisfy Arthur. Then Emmett's eyes fell on the cigarette in his hand and he frowned.

"You smoke now?" he gasped in disbelief.

Arthur gritted his teeth.

"Not normally."

Except sometimes socially, like drinking card night cards, but that was mostly cigars. Gwaine had gotten him into that bad habit during their university days.

"There are just times that call for it," he continued and glared up at Emmett.

Times like the idiot standing in front of him, managed to get them both into.

"Don't blame me if you end up with lung cancer," Emmett glibly said.

Arthur scowled at him. "I'll probably be shot before that happens, no thanks to you."

"You didn't have to come after me."

That was true.

"You disobeyed a direct order," Arthur stated, as if that was a good enough explanation, when really it had nothing to do with that and they both knew it.

"Why did you follow me?"

"I made a promise," he sighed.

Which was true, but his reasons were still his own _you're the only friend I have and I can't bear to lose you. _The words remained unspoken, they were just a thought really and a feeling. One he wasn't about to express because he wanted to remain pissed off with him. He didn't want to like him, hated the fact that he found himself drawn to the young man, past lives, reincarnation or whatever. These feelings just left him feeling unsettled and disgruntled.

"Who to?" Emmett inquired, curiously.

"Who else," he muttered, "Morgana."

Emmett's eyes widened with surprise and then a thoughtful expression crossed his face.

"I guess she likes you," Arthur continued, "though I can't see why."

That was blunt, but Emmett didn't seem fazed. Was there nothing that bothered him? He'd never known anyone to be so god damn patient and that pissed him off too.

* * *

Arthur's mood didn't improve any better when the CO decided on having a word with him, and reamed him out for following the medic up the ridgeline. It wasn't his place to do so, and on and on, he raved, making Arthur feel embarrassed, a failure. Such feelings never did sit right with him and only pissed him off even more. But the CO was right, what the hell was he thinking, going after Emmett, only that he wasn't, acting of a whim of a feeling instead.

He needed to be tougher, keep Emmett at an arm's length distance. Not let him get any closer to him than he already was.

* * *

So Arthur was pissed off with him. He'd get over it. But next time he would think twice, especially if it meant Arthur was going to follow him.

Merlin hadn't expected that, but he should have known. It's was typically Arthur. And he wasn't about to take the chance of anything happening to him. Leaving him up there on that ridge was the hardest thing he had to do. Every instinct he ever had was to protect Arthur. It was the single driving force of his life in Camelot times. Even after he'd died, his focus had been on Gwen and their son, because that it what Arthur would have wanted. He would do anything to honour the word of his friend. Not that it was hard either; Gwen and Audric were like family. They gave his life meaning and purpose. In many ways he was just as close to Gwen as he had been to Arthur.

Merlin hurried his stride to catch up with him.

Arthur didn't even glance his way.

"I'm sorry," he said, "it was stupid of me."

Arthur stopped suddenly and turned to face him. He was still mad, okay so he had gotten in trouble by the CO and Merlin was well aware how much Arthur hated being accused of doing the wrong thing. He was still just as proud in this lifetime.

"What did you say?" Arthur began, raising an eyebrow.

Here we go, Merlin inwardly sighed, Arthur was now going to milk this for all it was worth and force him into some sort of humility.

"You heard."

Arthur gave that superior, self-righteous look he remembered all too well, reminding him of the old days.

"I want to hear you say it again, louder this time."

"I'm sorry."

"That's 'I'm sorry Sir' to you."

"Sorry, Sir," Merlin retorted, placing an emphasis on the word 'Sir.'

Arthur grinned, smugly. "That's better Lance Corporal."

He continued walking.

"Prat," Merlin muttered after him.

"I heard that," Arthur called back, over his shoulder.

Merlin smiled to himself and shook his head, but then a worried frown skittered across his forehead. He couldn't help feeling that Arthur wanted to distance himself from him - and why? Did this have something to do with their conversation about reincarnation? Was he afraid of it?

* * *

_Arthur raises the goblet to his lips._

'_It's poisoned! Don't drink it!'_

_Before Arthur has a chance to take a sip Merlin has already grabbed the goblet from his hand._

'_Merlin, what are you doing?'_

'_Bayard laced Arthur's goblet with poison,' Merlin declares._

'_This is an outrage!' Bayard exclaims._

_Bayard and his men drew their swords, as did the knights._

'_Order your men to put down their swords,' his father says, 'you are outnumbered.'_

'_I will not allow this insult to go unchallenged,' Bayard threatens._

_His father turns to Merlin. 'On what ground do you base this accusation?'_

_Oh shit, Arthur heart sinks. That boy is always in trouble. 'I'll handle this.'_

_He skirts around the table to grab Merlin._

'_Merlin, you idiot. Have we been slow at the gin again?'_

_He grabs the goblet out of his hands, glares at him._

'_Unless you want to be strung up, you will tell me why you think it's poisoned now,' his father intervenes._

'_He was seen lacing it,' Merlin replies, pointing at Bayard._

'_By whom?'_

'_I can't say.' Merlin hangs his head and Arthur inwardly groans._

_The boy was so naively stupid._

'_I won't listen to this anymore,' Bayard roars._

_His father turns to face him. 'Pass me the goblet.'_

_Arthur hands it to him._

'_If you're telling the truth ...' his father begins, looking at Bayard._

'_I am.'_

'_Then you have nothing to fear do you?"_

_Bayard sheathes his sword and reaches for the goblet._

'_No. If this does prove to be poisoned, I want the pleasure of killing you myself.'_

_Bayard snorts and Uther held out the goblet to Merlin._

'_He'll drink it.'_

_Sudden horror washes over Arthur. 'But if it's poisoned he'll die!'_

'_Then we'll know he was telling the truth,' his father calmly replies._

_Arthur is rattled by his father's heartless words._

'_And what if he lives?" Bayard interjects._

'_Then you have my apologies, and you can do with him as you will.'_

'_Uther! Please!' speaks up an old man. "He's just a boy. He's doesn't know what he's saying.'_

_Yes, please, for just once in your life listen father!_

'_Then you should have schooled him better.'_

_Arthur runs a hand through his hair. He knew what his father was like. He didn't see reason and he can't let this happen!_

'_Merlin, apologize. This is a mistake. I'll drink it.'_

_Merlin shakes his head. 'No, no, no, no. It's alright. I'll drink it."_

_Merlin toasts to Bayard and then him and drinks._

'_Its fine,' he says, relief crossing his face._

'_He's all yours,' Uther pronounces._

_Merlin suddenly starts choking and Arthur watches with horror as he slumps to the ground unconscious. Arthur crouches over him in disbelief. What has his father done! He's killed him!_

'_Merlin, can you hear me?' cries the old man alongside him._

_Wake up. He needs him to wake up. It can't end this way. _

Someone was shaking him and Arthur tried to push them away.

"Arthur," a voice hissed and the images before him shattered into fragments.

His body jolted and his eyes suddenly sprung open. Merlin's hazy image came into view.

Arthur sat up quickly, heart beating erratically and grabbed him by his shirt.

"Why did you do that?!" he exclaimed, "You could have died!"

Merlin's eyes widened.

"You were dreaming," he said.

Arthur took in his surroundings, his breathing was ragged as if he'd just run a marathon. It was dark and the sky was filled with stars and ... it was a dream, but so lifelike. He fell back to the ground in exhaustion, running a hand over his head wanting to yank at his hair which was still too short for it, damn it.

Emmett, Merlin, whoever the hell he was, hovered by his side.

"Must be some dream," he said, his voice laced with a mixture of concern and curiosity.

Arthur glanced at him, the emotions still so real, leaving him feeling shattered.

"You ... you drank poison," he stammered, his voice hoarse with emotion, "in place of me."

Emmett's went still, a mixture of surprise and something else that Arthur couldn't quite define, crossing his face.

"I did?"

Is that what had really happened, was the _something bad happened_ gut feeling he had seeing his friend die? A pervasive coldness swept through him and he involuntarily shivered.

"Why am I having these dreams?"

Emmett slowly shook his head. Arthur needed to know, and yet ... he was afraid, terribly afraid because if that had happened ... then he didn't want to remember.

Merlin sat there, unsure of what to say and do? Arthur looked so troubled and anxious.

Should he tell him _they are not dreams Arthur, they are memories._

Did he wait for Arthur to remember for himself?

Every part of his being yearned to tell him the truth, but seeing the state Arthur was currently in, was it the right thing to do? If Arthur didn't remember he would just think he was barking mad.

"Do you dream of me?" Arthur asked in a tense voice.

"No," Merlin softly replied.

_Because he already remembered, he'd never died. _He had spent over a thousand years waiting for this moment.

Now it was here, he had no idea on what to do. _Just_ _remember Arthur. I need you to remember!_

Arthur brought a hand up to his forehead and let out a low, bitter, hoarse chuckle.

"This is ridiculous."

His hand dropped to his side and Merlin noted the shadows in his eyes.

"Maybe I am losing my mind," he muttered.

* * *

Merlin was so glad when Camp Clifton finally came into view. It was over and he never wanted to go on such a long patrol again. Seven days! A whole week without a shower, living off ration packs, sleeping in freezing cold temperatures and getting shot at by insurgents. He could think of better things to do with his time.

Then there was Arthur.

He had been strangely subdued since the dream, which was frustrating. Merlin wanted to ask him about it, but when Arthur didn't want to talk it was futile trying to make him do so.

Merlin well remembered the event Arthur had dreamed about. Just not how much he had dreamed of it. _You drank poison ... in place of me. _He recalled seeing the raw pain in Arthur's eyes, and Arthur getting emotionally attached often then led to him emotionally distancing himself. Feelings, too many emotions wasn't his forte, he didn't know how to deal with such things. Now Merlin could sense that Arthur clearly didn't want to remember.

So he buried himself in his work to take his mind off it, sometimes so much so that he even forgot to eat, not joining Gwaine and the others at the cook house table. Sometimes Gwaine found him and dragged him out to have dinner with them. If it wasn't Gwaine then it would be Lancelot. They really did fuss over him like a mother hen at times and he found it amusing. Even Percy took to visiting him in the medical center generally over some minor complaint that had Merlin wondering if he was really there just to check up on him, make sure he was okay.

If it wasn't Percy then it would be Gwaine.

Gwaine never needed a medical reason he'd just barge into the medic center and spit it straight out.

"Alright what gives Emmett?"

Merlin sighed. He was sorting through the new shipment of medical supplies, and looked up at Gwaine.

"We hardly see you anymore," Gwaine continued, before Merlin had a chance to say anything, "You're always working and Arthur is grumpy all the time."

"Nothing new about that is there?" Merlin interjected in an attempt to lighten the mood.

Gwaine managed a grim brief smile.

"Did you do something to piss him off?"

He wasn't at all sure on how to answer that. Ask Arthur, he felt like saying. He was the only person who hadn't been to seen him. Arthur was currently avoiding him like he had the bubonic plague and it baffled him. It also hurt.

"I don't know what's going on with him," he returned at length.

"Well can't you two kiss and make up."

Merlin smiled at the image. Yeah, he could really see that going down well.

"It just isn't the same," Gwaine muttered, frowning, "When you two are at loggerheads it's all wrong."

Merlin noted the puzzled look in Gwaine's eyes. He inwardly sighed, _that's because what you feel, you can't remember. _But what was the point_._

* * *

The next foot patrol lasted longer than it was meant to due to an IEP bomb explosion in the nearest village. It required setting up extra security and treating wounds inflicted by the local villagers. A medical officer was flown in, and a makeshift hospital erected.

Emmett worked tirelessly on treating the injuries for long hours throughout the day. He never stopped. He never complained about the workload. When everyone else had had enough from extreme tiredness, Emmett just kept going. Arthur didn't know how he did it and yet he still found time to comfort the injured children, making them giggle with funny stories, in their own language, which Emmett seemed to speak fluently.

How did he do that, Arthur marveled, there was so much he didn't know about him. And he was always smiling and cheerful around the children, and well everyone else too, but when no one was watching Arthur saw the deep sadness and sorrow in his eyes. Eyes that had seen too much, eyes that sometimes seemed old beyond their years and it made him feel sad in a way he couldn't explain.

It wasn't right.

What had happened to the young man to put that sorrow in his eyes?

He was getting thinner too, the hollows in the planes of his face beginning to disturb Arthur. And when Emmett didn't show up to dinner that evening Arthur went in search of him. He'd deliberately kept his distance from Emmett because he couldn't afford to get too attached to him. Those words _I came back because you're the only friend I have and I couldn't bear to lose you _haunted him. The dream hadn't helped either. It forced him to acknowledge that in truth, he really couldn't bear to lose him, but to hell with that. He couldn't do it anymore, avoid him. Nothing was the same without his company. He missed him.

* * *

It was only after Merlin was completely sure everything would be okay that he left the makeshift hospital, and half stumbled outside towards the tents they had erected on their stay here at the village so far. He felt so bone wearily tired that he wasn't even sure which direction he was headed till he felt two strong pair or hands land on his shoulders.

He looked up into Arthur Pendragon's concerned expression.

"Where have you been Emmett?" he demanded.

But Merlin's tongue seemed to get stuck to the roof of his mouth.

"I-I was ..." he began, swallowing, "working."

"You want to work yourself to death?" Arthur continued, sounding annoyed, "look at you," he continued with disgust, or was that disgust masked by worry?

"You're all skin and bones."

This was the first time Arthur had talked to him in a week, and it was to give him a lecture.

"Have you eaten anything today?"

Merlin had to think for a moment, probably not and he numbly shook his head.

"C'mon let's get you fed," Arthur gruffly said, putting an arm around him and pulling him along, "I swear to God Emmett that you worry too damn much about _everything_ without looking after you own self."

Merlin welcomed the simple human touch. Arthur still cared, even if he couldn't admit it. He was just glad that he'd finally acknowledged him again because Arthur's withdrawal had hurt. And Merlin had to accede that he really did need him, as much as Arthur needed him, even if the dollop head was too proud to admit it.

"You concerned about me Sir?" he managed to quip.

"Don't be daft Emmett just that good medics are hard to come by these days."

Naturally, Merlin mused.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry no big reveal, but it is coming! So don't throw those pitchforks just yet! :) It'll be worth the wait. Just enjoy the natural progression the story takes.**

**Thanks to date for all the wonderful reviews! They mean the world to me and really do inspire me to keep writing. Please keep them coming! In any shape or form, I'm not fussy!**

**It's funny, but I think this is the first story I've ever written that is based so much on a male to male friendship. It's been a lot of fun to write and somewhat challenging for me, but that is what I loved about the show the most. However, I'm also a big Arwen fan too, and a hopeless romantic so you can expect more to happen between Arthur and Gwen.**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Thanks once again for all the reviews, I think I've replied to most except Guest reviews as I can't. So a special thank you also to all the guest reviews to date. I am most excited about this chapter and eagerly await for what people think. Many thanks also to my Beta reader Sonia! She had a task on her hands editing this long chapter!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

_**Chapter 13. Remember Me**_

* * *

When they returned to Camp Clifton the first thing Merlin did was have a long shower, thankful that the water was hot for a change, before going to bed and sleeping what was left of the day away. Well that had been the plan, but then George had come down with severe stomach cramps.

After making a medical assessment, Merlin was in no doubt that he had acute appendicitis.

Gwaine offered to take two squads from his platoon and drive him to Camp Bastion for treatment at the field hospital there.

"I might even get to see Gwen, eh," he said, grinning at Arthur as they helped George to the jeep, "Or maybe you'd like to take George?"

Arthur glared at him.

"Guess not Princess," Gwaine continued with a wry smile, "Can't say I blame you, always awkward those moments, when you've dumped someone and then see them again, face to face for the first time."

Merlin hid a smile at the disgruntled look on Arthur's face.

"Which is why it's better you go, Gwaine," Arthur returned, sarcastically, "I'd be the last person she would want to see."

"I don't know, she might get a good laugh at your haircut," he quipped.

Arthur sighed and shook his head.

"You want me to say hello to her, from you?" Gwaine continued a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Arthur's jaw clenched. "Shut up Gwaine."

They helped George into the jeep. It was three in the afternoon and Merlin felt woozy in the head. The intensity of the last couple of days, and working pretty much non-stop was beginning to catch up with him.

"Say hi to Gwen for me," he said to Gwaine.

"Yeah, sure, I'll get us a pizza."

"It'll be cold by the time you get back."

"Still, better than nothing, eh, and it's pizza."

"Give it to Emmett, he needs it," Arthur said, glancing at him, "And tell Gwen that Emmett's getting too skinny so she'll nag him a lot when R&R comes up."

Merlin inwardly sighed. Gwen would nag him too, probably more so than Arthur currently was. It was as if Arthur was on a quest to make sure he ate at every meal break. When Arthur put his mind to something, he was like a dog at a bone with it. He had done nothing but hound him about eating the last two days.

"Thanks for that," he muttered dryly to Arthur as they watched the jeep drive off in a plume of dust.

"As the officer in charge of this platoon it is my duty to make sure all the soldiers are looked after," he replied.

Yeah right, Merlin snorted, trust Arthur to explain it in purely professional terms and not that he was worried about him because he actually cared.

"Your role is important Emmett," he continued, "As the medic of this platoon, you have a responsibility."

Black spots began to swim before Merlin's eyes. Arthur was still rambling about being healthy, doing as he was told and his so called responsibility to the platoon. The wooziness suddenly intensified and he felt himself fall to the ground as the darkness consumed him, the last thing he heard was Arthur swearing.

Someone was calling his name through the dark haze. They sounded urgent, worried. But Merlin wanted to sleep. His limbs felt heavy. He was so tired that he couldn't summon his eyes to open.

He felt someone carry him. This wasn't right. He had to wake up. He still had all those sick children to tend to. He could heal them. There had to be some purpose for him being what he was; immortal. It was a burden more than anything and his alone to bear. A burden he hadn't wanted, cursed to live forever. The initial discovery of his immortality had horrified him.

'_Why am I like this?' he raged to Gaius, 'what has happened to me?'_

'_I don't want to live forever!'_

* * *

Arthur lay Merlin down on the bed in the medic center, worried by the pallor of his skin.

"Idiot," he hissed, and his hand shook as he raked it over his hair.

How could Emmett let it get to this? He'd never known someone to work as selflessly as him, as well as taking stupid risks. But he needed to focus, not let emotion get the better of him. He was the Officer in charge and Emmett was the medic who needed attending to, that is all it was.

His hands were not shaking because seeing him faint had scared the hell out of him or because he couldn't bear the thought of anything happening to him. No ... that had nothing to do with it.

They had all been taught basic first aid. He knew what to do when someone fainted and propped a couple of pillows under Emmett's legs to help the blood flow to his head.

Shouldn't he have come around by now?

"Emmett," he said, "Wake up, Emmett."

He shook his shoulder.

"Must save the children," Emmett mumbled, so softly Arthur only just heard him.

"Yeah, you did that."

Emmett's head began tossing from side to side and Arthur's worry increased.

"I need you to wake up," his spoke again, a hint of desperation in his voice.

"Can't die, I-I can't die."

Arthur felt the blood drain from his own face. What was he talking about?

"You're not going to die," he stressed.

"Can't die," Emmett continued to mumble, his face screwed up in pain, "I want to die, it's not fair, why can't I die?"

Arthur froze ... shit. What did he mean? Was he re-living some past event? Was it to do with his father dying, the scars on his body? What the hell had happened to him?! Is this why he never talked about his past, because it was too bloody painful to recall? Arthur swallowed the sudden lump in his throat.

His grip on Emmett's shoulder tightened.

"Emmett, wake up, that's an order!"

Why wasn't he responding? Shit, shit, shit. Just when he needed a medic and there wasn't one!

"Gwen," he mumbled, droplets of sweat breaking out on his smooth pale forehead, "you can't leave me yet ... you're all I have."

Arthur looked down at him with morbid curiosity at the mention of Gwen, wishing like nothing else that she was here. She would know what do to. And what did he mean by those words – _you can't leave me yet._

"Upon my word Gwen," Emmett continued and the pained expression returned to his face, "I'll look after him as I always have done."

It was just getting worse and Arthur didn't know how to stop it. He just wanted him to wake up so he could end his suffering. Was he re-living something else now, something to do with Gwen? _I'll look after him ..._what did that mean ... who was he talking about? Or was he dreaming?

"Gwen, I-I ..." Tears leaked from the corners of his tightly shut eyes, "Gwen ... "

"Dammit, Emmett, just wake up! You have to wake up!" he all but yelled.

Arthur was getting beyond desperate now, what the hell did he do?

Then Emmett began to thrash on the bed, and Arthur tried holding him down. There might not be much to him, but he was surprisingly strong. It took all of his strength to hold him down.

"No ... nooo!" Emmett yelled, loud enough to raise the roof and the ragged sorrow in his voice shook Arthur to the core of his being.

It was horrible. Emmett's whole body was now shaking with sobs.

Seeing the tortured look on his face broke what little resolve Arthur had left. He felt tears burn at the back of his own eyes. He had to do something ... he had to stop this!

There was only one word that came to his mind, one word that had to be said; one word that might settle him.

"Merlin," his voice hoarse, he was desperate now, "Merlin ... damn you, wake up."

The young man went strangely still. Arthur blinked in disbelief as a look of peace stole over his thin gaunt face, and his breathing began to take on a normal rhythm. A half sob caught in Arthur's throat. He tried to rein in his sudden turbulent emotions. Why had he responded to that name?

He leaned over and gently shook him.

"Merlin."

It sounded right, he was Merlin. He'd always been Merlin.

"Hmm, Arthur," he mumbled, "tired, want to sleep."

Arthur fell back in the chair, dazed, shaken. He felt as if he'd just been through an emotional wringer, was still caught in it! What the hell ... what was that all about? _Merlin, Merlin, where have you been ... _Arthur began to shake_._

He ran a hand over his face, finding it damp with tears. He gazed down at his hand, almost as if it belonged to someone else. It wasn't him. Sudden panic at the thought of those words caused Arthur to leap up from the chair and begin pacing. He ran his hands over his head, wanting to yank at his hair in frustration and confusion. Who was he? Not Merlin, but him, who was he ... back then?

If he could only remember, it hovered on the fringes of his mind like an elusive memory, but he couldn't recall it. Think ... just think, harder ... it was important.

A sudden loud knock on the door startled him. He spun around and the door opened.

Lance's concerned face peered around the door.

"How is he?" he asked, stepping into the room and glancing at Emmett.

Arthur quickly pulled his thoughts and emotions into check.

"He's sleeping, but he's alright, I think."

Lance took the few steps to Emmett's bedside. Colour was beginning to return to Emmett's pale face, Arthur noticed. Surely that was a good sign.

"He works himself too hard," Lance spoke, his voice laced with concern, "I'll have a word with him about it when he wakes up."

Arthur drew a deep breath, rubbing his eyes in an attempt to compose himself.

"Good luck with that," he muttered, which sounded more like a croak.

"He is stubborn," Lance returned, his eyes resting on his face.

He frowned slightly. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," he replied gruffly, too gruffly and Lance's frown intensified.

"You don't look fine."

Arthur's shoulders slumped.

"It's been a hell of a day, couple of days actually."

Lance's hand rested on his shoulder, but Arthur couldn't bring himself to look at him. Displaying any kind of emotion was a weakness, according to his father. He had had that drilled into him his whole life growing up.

"The CO sent me to look for you," he began in a kind tone of voice, "you are supposed to be in a meeting."

Arthur's head shot up. What! He couldn't leave Merlin, no Emmett, no damn it, whoever he was.

"Don't worry I'll stay with him."

But what if Emmett had another funny turn, or dream and started getting all distressed. And Arthur wasn't sure he could stand witnessing something like that again. He needed to get his head and emotions in order.

"Thanks."

* * *

Arthur was glad for the break. It had allowed him time to get his emotions back in order, and some rational thought. He'd been holed up with the CO for the last two hours and was now getting impatient to leave.

Was Lance still with Emmett? Had Emmett woken up yet?

It was nearing 7.00pm when he was finally able to leave. His stomach grumbled and he made his way to the cookhouse to get a quick bite to eat before checking up on Emmett.

Gwaine was back, sitting at the table eating and chatting with some young woman, typical. So what young woman was he chatting up now? He walked past them, his eyes landing on the young woman in question and he stopped dead in his tracks.

Gwen?

Really, he hadn't expected to see her, not at all, but there she sat and it took a moment for it to register in his head ... _Gwen_.

It had been four months.

Not that he was counting _much_. And a longing so intense in its ferocity hit him hard.

What was she doing here? Then he remembered George had been taken to Camp Bastion with an acute appendicitis, and she was obviously his replacement.

He didn't know whether to feel relieved or not. Emmett needed Gwen, he was asking for her. He hadn't realized until that point how dependent Emmett seemed to be on Gwen.

He stood there rooted to the spot unable to tear his gaze away from her. Her hair was tied back in the customary bun of Army regulations. She was wearing the medic uniform that really wasn't flattering to any woman who wore it, but she still looked beautiful to him. She was chatting to Gwaine, smiling, and he was totally mesmerized by that smile. Then as if suddenly aware he was there she looked straight at him, and the smile froze on her face.

His heart hammered against his shirt.

Her eyes rested on his hair and widened in shock.

He'd forgotten about his hair, or rather lack of it. He could only imagine how bad it looked.

"Arthur," she stammered, slowly standing up.

"Gwen."

His mouth felt dry.

Gwaine had turned to look at him, amusement flashing in his eyes.

"Well I'll let the two of you get reacquainted," he said, giving him a wink as he left the table.

Arthur stood there like some dumb fool, feeling incredibly awkward; his heart beating irregularly in his chest at the sight of her.

"How have you been?" she asked, breaking the silence.

He pulled himself together. "Alright I suppose," forcing a brief smile, "just tired."

He wanted to say something meaningful, clever maybe, nice even, but he couldn't. What did he say after the way they had last parted?

"And you?" he quickly asked.

"Good, well as good as anyone can be in this place," she replied, managing a nervous sort of smile, "the long work shifts are a killer."

"That they are," he agreed.

God this was tortuous. He clenched his hands into fists. His heart heavy in his chest as he fought the longing to pull her into his arms, feel her soft passionate lips on his.

"How's Emmett?" she asked.

Shit ... Emmett, what did he say? He still hadn't totally recovered, was still feeling the emotional after effects. He could still see the pain etched in the young man's face.

"Arthur?" she quickly spoke.

He saw the sudden alarm in her eyes.

"What's happened to him?"

'_Gwen ... you can't leave me yet ... you're all I have.' _Those words still haunted him.

"H-He's alright," he slowly said, clearing his voice but she didn't look convinced, "Just that he fainted earlier."

"He fainted!" she exclaimed.

"He's been working too hard ..."

"Why did you let him?" she accused.

She had some nerve.

"I didn't," he returned, feeling defensive, "but you know he seldom does as he's told."

He saw her visibly relax, biting down on her lip in that familiar way of hers, "He is a worry at times."

"You could say that again!" he muttered with frustration, running stiff fingers through his hair, suddenly annoyed he was now denied that one release of frustration thanks to Gwaine's stupid bet.

Her eyes rested on his hair and did he just detect a small twitch of amusement at the corners of her mouth. His hand dropped to his side and he suddenly felt awkward all over again.

"Can I see him?" she asked.

He nodded. "Of course, he's been asking for you."

He led her to the medical center They didn't exchange one word. He couldn't think of anything to say, but he was well aware of her every little movement. The sway of her hips, the way loose tendrils of hair curled down the back of her neck.

He was glad she was here for Emmett's sake, but not his own. Seeing her again only brought home to him how damn much he'd missed her, and what he had done to her.

Regret coursed through his veins. Bit too late to do anything about it now, he thought bitterly. Given her stiff posture as they walked she wasn't about to be friendly to him let alone forgive him anytime soon. The thought of that make his heart ache in his chest.

He pushed the door open to the medical center. Lancelot was sitting on a chair by Emmett's bed, chatting with the young man.

So Emmett was awake now. Did he at all remember what had happened? Arthur had about a million questions to ask him.

Lancelot glanced up and quickly stood as they entered.

Arthur saw the big happy smile on Emmett's face at the sight of Gwen.

"Gwen!" he exclaimed, struggling to a sitting position.

Gwen's eyes widened with sudden delight. If only she looked at him like that and he felt another pang of regret. She did once upon a time.

"Emmett," she breathed with relief before rushing over to him and hugging him like a dear lost friend, making Arthur's heart thud heavily and painfully. They really were close. There was a loyalty, respect and an abiding faith in each other that made his heart twist in knots. He longed for that closeness. He longed for what they shared and for someone to completely and utterly believe in him.

"I take it you are George's replacement?" Lance spoke up.

"I'm Gwen," she smiled, turning to face Lance.

"I'm Lance," he said, holding out a hand to her, "pleased to meet you Gwen."

She shook his hand and Lance's hand lingered in hers.

Arthur frowned at the male appreciation in Lance's eyes. He didn't even know her. And it wasn't like Lance to notice the girls. Not that there were that many girls here, but there were still a few and Lance had never taken an interest in them.

He glanced at Emmett, relieved to see him awake. The questions returned.

Merlin, who was he? Why did he respond to that name? It still made the hairs stand up on the back of his arms and neck.

What would happen if he were to call him Merlin now he was awake?

Arthur was tempted to call him just that, but now wasn't the right time, especially in front of Lance and Gwen. But there would be a time and when it came he would call him Merlin, and wait to see what happened.

Emmett looked at him and smiled in his usual cheerful way. It was hard to imagine his agonised words _I want to die, it's not fair ... why can't I die_.

He inwardly shivered at the memory.

A puzzled frown dented Emmett's forehead and Arthur tore his gaze away from him, onto Gwen.

"We'll leave the two of you alone," he quickly said, "I'm sure you have a lot of catching up to do."

All of a sudden he just wanted to get out of there, away from her. He couldn't bear to watch the happy reunion any longer. Turning abruptly he left the room without a backward glance.

Lance followed him, but not before he heard him say, "You rest Emmett, that's an order."

Arthur's stride was hurried as he headed to the cook house.

Lance caught up with him.

"Is Gwen Emmett's girlfriend?" he asked.

He wanted to say, "yes, and she's off limits to you," but Lance was a decent bloke.

"They're just friends," he returned, "and house mates but that's it."

Arthur didn't want to acknowledge the brief relieved smile on Lance's face. He clenched his fists by his side. Terrific, this was the last thing he needed.

* * *

Gwen didn't know what shocked her the most; seeing Arthur again or Emmett's thinness. Sure Emmett had always been skinny, but now he was so thin, obviously he hadn't been eating much since being in theater.

"Soon as they asked for a replacement for George I was the first one to put my hand up," she told Emmett after he'd inquired as to why she was here.

"I'm so glad," he smiled, his pale complexion concerning her, "least you don't talk about computers all day long."

"So am I, especially seeing how skinny you've gotten, I'm going to make it my personal interest to fatten you up."

Emmett groaned, "Not you too."

Gwen frowned.

"Arthur's always on my back about it."

Her frown deepened. "He is?" She absently began fiddling with the tassels of the bed cover.

Seeing Arthur had shaken her more than she cared to admit. If she had known he was going to be here she wouldn't have volunteered to come. Gwaine hadn't said anything about him being here, but she had been perplexed by the glint in his eyes, as if he knew something she didn't. Now she knew what that was.

Arthur had looked equally as shocked to see her. When her heart had stopped beating so loud she was sure the whole cook house could hear it, she was able to meet his eyes. That was worse. She felt the electric shock of the intensity of his gaze hit her hard. She recalled his last painful words to her, _I don't need you,_ and tried to feel nothing. Then her eyes had rested on his hair, and that shocked her too, what had he done to his hair? It was so short, barely half an inch long all over and not that it was unusual for out here, least a quarter of the men had their hair so, but she just hadn't expected Arthur to.

She glanced at Emmett and saw the questions in his eyes. She knew what he was about to ask.

"I told you, I'm over him."

But it was a lie and Emmett knew it too, judging by the look in his eyes.

"I don't want to talk about him," she added, it still hurt too much.

"Okay," Emmett began, "let's talk about you instead. Tell me everything about life at Camp Bastion."

Gwen chattered away, feeling happy to be with her friend again. It was just as well she came. Emmett needed looking after even if it meant she'd have to see Arthur from time to time. Unlike at Camp Bastion, Officers and Non-Officers shared the same facilities, the cook house and the recreation room. So there really was no avoiding him, but that didn't mean they had to talk. She could ignore his existence.

Lance entered the room with a tray of food in his hands.

"This is for Emmett, he needs to eat."

"That's thoughtful of you."

"I can't take the credit, Arthur told me to bring him a plate of food."

As usual Arthur liked giving orders without doing it himself, she silently fumed.

"Yes, but you are the one to do it, not him," she pointed out.

"He was the one to get it ready," Lance returned in his defence, "he just gave me the tray."

So he was obviously avoiding her then, fine, they both could play that game.

"Thank you Lance," she smiled sweetly up at him.

"Have you eaten yet?"

"Yes."

Merlin watched the exchange with interest. He could already see Lance was smitten by Gwen, just like before. His mouth twitched with a smile. And Gwen was now pissed off with Arthur. Great going Arthur, he mused, that's one way to really endear yourself to her, neither should you leave her alone with Lancelot.

Lancelot was now asking Gwen about how she was finding Camp Bastion.

Don't mind me, Merlin felt like saying.

Then his thoughts drifted to Arthur. He knew it was Arthur who carried him into the medical centre, much to his embarrassment. He couldn't even recall what had happened. Only that he was having some disturbing flashbacks, they caused him pain. It was the day he discovered his immortality, then Gwen, Gwen dying. He remembered now. How he had wanted to wake up, but couldn't.

Merlin froze. God he hoped Arthur wasn't there. Did he say anything he shouldn't have? He had been aware of Arthur's presence, sure he had heard him calling his name, but when he had opened his eyes it was to see Lancelot's concerned expression.

"Where's Arthur?" was the first thing he had asked.

"He had to attend a meeting with the CO."

He tried to hide his disappointment.

"He cares about you, really cares," Lance continued, "I've not seen him look so worried before."

Merlin hadn't known whether to be touched or concerned about that. He'd only fainted and it wasn't the first time so why was Arthur worried? Then there was the funny look in his eyes a moment ago, a sort of haunted look that had puzzled him. But maybe he was just thinking about Gwen?

Lance finally bid a farewell to Gwen.

"Make sure you eat all of that, Emmett," he said, over his shoulder on the way out of the door before flashing Gwen a warm smile.

"He seems nice," Gwen breathed, as she placed the tray of food on the table and pushed it over his bed.

"He is," Emmett agreed, "incredibly brave too."

They talked about Lance for a while, he told her about life out here at Camp Clifton, the foot patrols, getting shot at by insurgents, the bomb blast at the local village. He carefully avoided mentioning Arthur as he talked, but at times it was unavoidable - he was after all in charge of the platoon. Whenever he did slip up and mention his name he noticed the way Gwen stiffened, and inwardly sighed. He wanted to tell her how much Arthur still cared for her, but it wasn't his place.

Merlin actually managed to eat everything on his plate and his appetite seemed to have returned, maybe because Gwen was here and just her presence made everything that bit brighter. The horrible images of the injuries sustained by the local villagers he'd witnessed these last few days receded from his mind. He didn't have to be so strong and hold it all together with her there. He could be himself. It wasn't that he couldn't be himself around the other soldiers, just that he felt he had to be more than what he was. He couldn't let them see his vulnerability.

An hour later Gwaine turned up.

"I only just found out what had happened," he exclaimed, "no one told me."

"It's not that much to tell, I just fainted, that's all," Merlin replied.

Gwaine still didn't look happy.

"The pizza is in the fridge," Gwaine continued, holding up a large plastic bag, "I brought you a pile of junk food."

He began pulling out the contents of the bag, potato chips, chocolate.

"Not like that god damn awful chocolate in the ration packs, eh?"

Merlin was touched and bemused at the same time. Ten minutes later even Percival rocked up, followed by Lance again, then Tom and a number of other fellow soldiers till the small medical centre began to get over crowded. The only person not to turn up was Arthur and Merlin knew it was because of Gwen. He wished Arthur was here. And he certainly wasn't giving himself a favourable impression with Gwen by being conspicuously absent.

Something she commented on after everyone had left, when it was just the two of them.

"Everyone likes you so much."

She was putting stock away in the cupboards.  
"Yeah, I guess. It's a bit like that out here. You get attached to each other."

"Except Arthur," she added, shutting the cupboard door close with more force than necessary.

He can't let her think that. It wasn't true.

"He cares," he quickly said, probably more than everyone else, "He just doesn't show it."

Gwen glanced over her shoulder.

"You're quick to defend him."

"I've gotten t know him since being here."

Problem was Arthur didn't know him, he inwardly sighed.

* * *

Merlin wasn't happy about the decision being made. He was only to go on vehicle patrols till he recovered, but that would mean not being by Arthur's side.

"I'm fine now," he'd protested.

But Lance was adamant. Or maybe that was because he wanted Gwen by his side. Merlin frowned at the thought. Nah, he wouldn't do that, would he?

He looked at Arthur. He was the boss, shouldn't he decide? Merlin could tell he didn't look thrilled about it, but much to his dismay he agreed with Lance, even if somewhat reluctantly.

"I trust Lance's decision," Arthur had said later, when Merlin questioned him about it.

"You're not much good to us if you faint out on patrol," he continued, "We can't chance it."

Arthur's hand rested on his shoulder.

"Enjoy the break, you deserve it."

* * *

Arthur honestly wasn't happy, but what could he do about it? He had to agree with Lance because that made sense. Until Emmett was well enough he should stay put even it meant having Gwen there instead, which would only prove to be a distraction to him.

It had been a quiet day for a change but they all needed the rest. Arthur hated it when it was quiet. It gave him too much time to think. About Gwen, he couldn't help noticing how friendly Lance was to her at lunchtime or how much she seemed to like the attention he directed her way. He felt a swift pang of jealousy and fought to suppress it. Lance was a good sort, honourable, loyal, and why shouldn't Gwen like him? And he had, more or less, said there was no future between them.

What's done was done and he would just have to learn to live with it.

Then there was Emmett. He still hadn't forgotten his words from yesterday. They had haunted his dreams last night.

The raven haired boy with the laughing blue eyes, naive, young but so loyal, full of wit and charm, not to mention cheek.

He was always there, always by his side. He never went anywhere without him.

_I have magic, _his face full of shame as if it were a crime. Which was ridiculous, Arthur silently mused. He didn't understand. One, that he had magic as there was no such thing and two, his reaction to discovering Merlin had magic. That sense of betrayal. Why would he feel that way? The emotions were acute and real, but that's all they were, feelings with no associated memories, just snatches here and there. The internal gut instinct of, _something bad had happened,_ often stopped Arthur from probing too much further. He couldn't stand the thought of anything happening to him. Even when the idiot had fainted yesterday it had been enough to send him into a panic. And although he had questions he hadn't had the chance to catch him alone to ask any. No way would he risk running into Gwen. He just couldn't bring himself to face her, or to see the cool distant look in her eyes. So far she had done a good job of ignoring his existence.

It hurt and damn, but how long before George returned? Then he could be put out of his torture.

* * *

It was even worse having her on patrol with him in place of Emmett. It didn't feel right not having Emmett with him. Least he didn't have to worry about him, because let's face it the young man was a worry! Now he had other things to worry about; Gwen and Lance. He couldn't help notice how much closer they had become over the last two weeks.

He was going to lose her and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.

They seemed to spend every evening together in the recreation room, where once Lance would play darts or Poker with the lads, now he spent his time with Gwen.

She had barely said two words to him or him to her. But every now and again his eyes would rest on her, watching her and the longing would hit him hard.

Shit ... what had he'd been thinking? He should have been honest and to hell with his father.

Gwaine took to teasing him about it in typical Gwaine fashion.

"She didn't take long to find someone else," he'd quip, "But let's face it, he's handsome, strong, brave and loyal."

They were playing darts and Arthur began to imagine Gwaine's face in place of the dart board. Now that would be fun, Gwaine as dart practice.

"He has that olive complexion, girls dig that."

Arthur took aim at the dart board, ignoring him as usual.

"And you might be rich and girls like that too, but then I don't think Gwen cares about such things."

He threw the dart, missing everything and glared at Gwaine.

"Not to mention that he probably doesn't have a father that'll hate her," he snapped, and was sorry he'd allowed himself to react.

"Where the hell is Emmett? I thought he was playing darts with us?"

"I'm here," Emmett piped up, raising his hand.

He was sitting down on a nearby chair. Arthur shoved the darts at him.

"It's your turn."

Arthur really was pissed off, Merlin mused. Not that he could blame him. Gwaine really did push him too far at times. He glanced over at Gwen and Lance, feeling concerned. Was Gwen really over Arthur or was she using Lance as a means to get over him, because if she wasn't over Arthur then she really wasn't playing fair, especially if it involved Lance getting hurt.

He cornered her later that night, in the cook house, making hot chocolate.

"You and Lance are getting very friendly?"

She was dunking a biscuit in her cup of hot chocolate.

"He's very sweet," she replied with a smile, taking a bite of the biscuit.

"Do you like him?" he asked, cutting straight to the point.

"Yes, I like him."

"As much as he likes you?"

A slight frowned crossed her forehead.

"Because from what I can observe Lance more than just likes you, I think he might even be falling in love with you."

She gave him an amused look. "It's much too soon for that," she half laughed.

"For you, yes, but not for him."

Obviously that thought hadn't crossed her mind, given the sudden hesitant look in her eyes.

"You don't want to hurt his feelings," he continued, softly.

She shook her head, "Of course not."

It wasn't in her nature to do so, he knew that, but then she was probably acting on the rebound of Arthur's rejection of her.

"You want to make sure you are completely over Arthur."

Her eyes met with his, she bit down on her lip and he could clearly see that she was not over him.

* * *

The following day, out on patrol, there was an insurgent attack. They took protection behind a stone wall. Arthur's first thought had been for Gwen's safety. When the call for 'we need a medic' came, he'd grabbed her by the arm to make sure it was safe first.

"Wait," he ordered, "till I give the all clear."

She nodded and at least she did as she was told, unlike Emmett.

He peered around the wall, one arm still protectively holding her. He wasn't even really thinking about that, it was just automatic.

Damn, it still wasn't safe, but a soldier was down and from what he could see, in a bad way.

He looked at her, could see the fear in her eyes but also a quiet sort of determination. She still always _surprised him._

It was the first time he'd been in such close proximity with her. Hell of a time for it. But just the smell of her hair shampoo brought back a rush of memories of the sweet moments they had spent together.

"Sir," she murmured, so formal, "I have to help him."

He nodded, knowing this.

"I'll get him, you stay here. It's too dangerous and I'm not going to chance anything happening to you."

Her eyes widened with surprise. Damn he shouldn't have said that. Too late to take it back now, so what if he had just confirmed that he still cared for her.

"Arthur ... I mean Sir," she quickly amended, and he could see the confusion in her pretty brown eyes. Her fingers lightly rested on his chest, "Be careful."

He was touched by her simple words. Did she still care for him, even if just a tad? It was enough and better than nothing.

He gave her a quick smile and nodded.

It all turned out fine, luckily. He retrieved the injured soldier, Gwen treated him, the helicopter came and took the injured solider to the field hospital and they all returned to Camp Clifton.

* * *

Gwen walked into the recreation room. Her eyes fell on Arthur, asleep on the couch, book resting on his chest, glasses slipping down his nose. She stood, rooted to the spot. She had tried so hard to forget him. And Lance was the sweetest of men, caring, kind, but she still found herself drawn to Arthur. Who was she kidding? Only herself, there would be no one else for her, not yet. Merlin was right, it was too soon. Lance had made a handy distraction. Gwen had felt flattered by his attention and it soothed the hurt she had felt from Arthur's rejection. She flirted with him, more than she ordinarily would have just to prove to Arthur that she was over him.

Truth was though, she wasn't.

An odd tenderness stole over her at the sight of him sleeping on the sofa, looking so young and relaxed when he normally looked so world weary, a longing to touch him swept over her. She glanced around the room, no one else was here and Arthur was asleep. She quietly walked over to the sofa and crouched down beside him, her eyes sweeping over his face.

_I can't chance anything happening to you. _He had uttered those words just this afternoon, and she saw the yearning in his eyes before he quickly masked it. Those words had startled her, she didn't think he cared. Had she been wrong about him?

She clenched her hands into fists, fighting the urge to touch him.

This is crazy, Gwen, she chided herself, just move away and let him sleep. But her eyes rested on his hair, her fingers itched to touch it, despite how short it now was. She remembered the way she used to stroke his hair, how much he liked it. The warmth in his eyes, the slow smile that would cross his face, the way his hand softly caressed her cheek.

"Oh Arthur, I wish I hated you," she quietly whispered, "I should hate you."

But she didn't, she never could. Against her will she raised her hand and lightly touched his hair. It was surprisingly soft, like soft velvety fuzz under her hand.

He stirred and she quickly removed her hand, half terrified he would wake up. But he was still fast asleep, and she breathed a sigh of relief. That was close. Too close. She needed to get out of there, but it wouldn't hurt to remove his glasses. Reaching out a hand she lightly removed them from his face and his eyes opened.

She froze.

His eyes widened at the sight of her.

"Gwen," he murmured.

"I'm sorry to wake you," she quickly said, "just that I saw you asleep and figured it wouldn't be too comfortable to sleep with your glasses on, and so I thought to remove them."

She could feel colour spike along her jaw line. A slow, warm smile crossed his face. Damn it, don't smile at me like that, she felt like saying, don't ever smile at me like that again.

"That's thoughtful of you."

"Hmm, well you had a rough time of it today."

His face went serious.

"So did you, are you okay now?"

She was touched by the concern evident in his eyes.

"Yes, it was some experience."

"Least you do as you're told, unlike Emmett," he muttered.

Gwen bit down on her lip. There was something she needed to ask him.

"You'll look after him when I'm gone?"

But deep down she knew she needn't ask him that. In her discrete observations she was well aware of how protective Arthur was over Emmett. She had found it oddly touching, even though not wanting to. She wanted to be angry at him, to not feel anything for him. She wanted to think of him as a heartless, arrogant ass, but he wasn't.

"The amount of people who ask me that," he sighed, "of course I'm going to look after him."

She smiled. "I know you will."

Gwen tore her gaze away from his, feeling suddenly shy and awkward, and cross at herself for even talking with him. He played havoc with her heart without even realizing it.

"I should let you rest." She went to leave but much to her surprise he grabbed her hand.

"No, please don't go," he quickly said, dragging himself up to a sitting position.

She looked back at him, sadly shaking her head. "No good can come of this Arthur," she murmured, "I can't trust my heart to you again."

Pain skittered across his face and something else, a deep resigned sadness.

"I know," he sighed, "and I'm sorry. You have no idea how sorry I am."

She bit down on her lip, to stop the threatening tears.

"You deserve better than me," he continued.

She shook her head, the curls tumbling down around her face. How could he say that, did he think so lowly of himself? She had to get out of there before her resolve crumbled.

"And I'm sure one day you'll find a girl your father will approve of," she mumbled, and pulling her hand free from his she made a hasty retreat.

* * *

Arthur lay back down groaning, raking a hand through his hair. Could this get anymore tortuous? He didn't want to find another girl. He wanted her.

His one moment to fix things and he bloody well couldn't. He was destined to end up a bachelor at this rate.

He let out a bitter hollow laugh. He was damned to spend his lifetime alone, denied of all the things he ever wanted, hurting the people that meant the most to him.

He had known love once, that he knew, and it had changed him forever. Just he couldn't remember how or why? Only that he wanted her, needed her and loved her, the intense ache in his chest was driving him to despair.

Why was his life so damn confusing? Nothing made sense anymore, not her, not even Emmett or the fact that he seemed to need them both.

What the hell was wrong with him? Why did he feel like he had lost everything that had ever mattered to him?

* * *

Getting ready for patrol the following morning Arthur watched Emmett walk across the compound, towards him, obviously irked about something given the frown on his forehead.

"I'm not an invalid," he stated, once he'd approached him, "You are all treating me like I'm about to shatter into a thousand pieces and you have no idea on just how strong I am because if you did you'd realize how capable I am!"

Arthur looked at him in amusement.

"I've even put on six pounds," he continued.

Arthur raised an eyebrow, "Where, in your big toe?"

But Emmett didn't look amused.

"I'm the medic of your patrol, it's been two weeks and I'm fitter than I have been in ages and I'm now beginning to think the only reason Sgt Lance is stopping me from coming back is because he has a thing for Gwen."

Arthur frowned. Of course he had a thing for Gwen. So did he, unfortunately.

"It's not half obvious is it," Emmett continued.

"I really don't think that is why," Arthur interjected, "he's too professional for that."

Emmett didn't look convinced and Arthur was strangely touched by his defiance, him wanting to be back on patrol. And why did he? He should be enjoying the break.

"Gwaine's mindless chatter getting to you?" he lightly teased.

Emmett shook his head and pursued his lips.

"I like Gwaine," he sighed, "But my place is by your side," he murmured softly, so softly that Arthur only just heard it.

_I know,_ he was almost about to reply but stopped. Emmett sensed it too? But when he had asked him if he had dreams a couple of weeks back, he had said no. Now curious his gaze rested on the young man's face. It was time to ask questions, time to find out just exactly who Emmett was. Something that had been bothering him for the last two weeks and something he hadn't yet had the chance to ask. But now he had.

"Did something happen between you and Gwen?" he inquired.

Emmett frowned, puzzled and shook his head. "No ... why?"

"You were rambling when unconscious the other week," Arthur began, "saying stuff."

Emmett went still, his expression suddenly guarded.

"Like what?"

"You kept calling for Gwen and saying something along the lines of, I can't die."

His face paled significantly. Arthur's curiosity increased.

"Were you re-living an event?" he asked, suddenly wanting to know.

Emmett didn't reply and shut his eyes.

"Was it to do with your father?"

He slowly shook his head.

"The scars on your body?" he insisted. For god's sake, tell me!

Emmett opened pained eyes to his. It roused something deep within. A memory so strong it made his gut hurt. He knew that pain, _I can't lose him ... he's my friend._

"Please Arthur," he murmured, eyes pleading, "let it go."

"I can't!" he exclaimed, "I can't let it go because I've never seen someone hurt like that before, and it isn't right, you were always cheerful, but now I think it's nothing more than a guise. Things have happened to you, bad things, and you look not much more than a boy, but you have a wisdom as old as time and just tell me, Emmett, who are you? Who are you really because I need to know?!"

He drew in a deep ragged breath, an emotion so strong it almost made him dizzy.

Emmett blinked, looking visibly shaken and something else ... scared.

A dawning thought took hold. If Emmett believed in reincarnation, but he didn't dream about it, did that mean ... "You remember," he managed to gasp.

Emmett didn't say anything, he didn't need to, it was written across his face as plain as day.

"Y-You ... you remember that time."

"Yes," he whispered.

Arthur's eyes widened in shock as a mixture of emotions swirled through him. How was that possible? It's not possible ... none of this was. How could it be?

A resigned sadness crossed Emmett's face as he raised his eyes to his.

"But you don't Arthur."

For one long moment he couldn't breathe, couldn't move, couldn't think.

His words made his heart pound.

Emmett lowered his eyes, a hint of tears glistening on his eyelashes. It disturbed Arthur more than he cared to admit, could admit.

"I wish you did," he continued sadly, turning away.

_You can't walk away from me. _Why was he? _Stop, I order you to stop. _He can't leave him like this.

Emmett's shoulders were slumped as if the burden of what he remembered weighed heavily upon him. A tortured longing for something he couldn't even remember overwhelmed him.

He might not remember much, but he had one more card up his sleeve, he did remember something that Emmett wasn't aware of.

"Merlin," his voice caught in his throat.

The young man went stock still, his back rigid.

"Your name was Merlin."

The loudness of his pounding heart echoed in his ears. Merlin slowly turned around, a sudden hope filling his eyes along with the tears.

"Yes," he nodded, "Yes ... it was," a tremulous smile crossing his face.

The emotion in his voice was such that Arthur found himself feeling suddenly choked up. Tears welled in his eyes, this was crazy.

"The dreams," he began, his voice cracking, "Are not dreams are they?"

Merlin slowly shook his head. "They are memories."

"You died."

A deep sorrow filled the young man's face. "No," he whispered.

Then Arthur knew, _I can't lose him ... he's my friend._

He raised haunted eyes to Merlin's.

"I died."

Merlin's face was sad and hurting, such pain there, such sorrow.

"Yes." His voice not more than a mere whisper in the still morning air. "Yes you did."

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading. Please leave a review. I really am anxious to hear what people think! Especially as this chapter, despite it's length, does kind of end on a bit of a cliff hanger!**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Thank you so much for all the lovely reviews! You have no idea how happy it makes me to see that so many people are loving this story.**

**This chapter was hard to write as it is sort of anticlimactic in many ways, until the end of it, that is! You will have to excuse any errors. As I will be going down South on holiday for the next five days I had no time to send it to my beta-reader and I wanted to upload before I left otherwise you would have had to wait another six days! Not to mention editing a chapter 8,000 words long is really time consuming, time, I'm afraid I haven't had.**

**I hope this chapter lives up to expectations. I'm not sure if it does? And it's ridiculously long again! I thought I would have it wrapped up in 6,000 words. Yeah right, who was I kidding!**

**Still, enjoy!**

* * *

_**Chapter 14. Regrets**_

* * *

_Say something Arthur._

Merlin watched the dazed look on Arthur's face. He was in shock. It wasn't surprising. Merlin was still recovering from his own shock. Arthur saying his name, a name he hadn't heard on his lips in well over a thousand years.

_Merlin ... your name was Merlin._

The intensity of the sudden emotions hitting him like a ton of bricks and a sudden hope, however fragile, flared in his heart. Tears threatened as he slowly turned to face Arthur.

Arthur standing there, dressed in his Army greens, his shorter hair, different time, different place, but the same man. Those eyes, unwavering, even now with confusion and raw emotion mirrored in their depths, and questions, so many questions. Not knowing who he was, what he was.

_Yes ...yes it was._

The words not more than a mere whisper, hope and the familiar ache of so many years yearning for this moment. Much to his astonishment tears filled Arthur's eyes and the next words he uttered completely floored him.

_The dreams are not dreams are they? S_low realization dawning on his face, _they are memories._

It was painful to watch in many ways, even though he hoped, wanted Arthur to remember ... but when and if he did, how would he react? What did he say to him, _You were fatally wounded in battle, in the prime of your time, just turned 30, your whole life ahead of you, a destiny that was meant to be that wasn't, a life you should have lived then but didn't. A life that should have been lived with the woman you loved, but you only had three years, and a son you never saw grow up, let alone be with. _

How did he even begin to tell Arthur these things?

That he screwed up_, 'It's all my fault. I thought I was in time'. _

He swallowed and his whole body trembled.

_You died _murmured Arthur.

Everybody died, everyone he ever loved and cared about he had to watch die, that had been hell enough.

He irrevocably, sadly shook his head, _no, _though he wished he had.

Seeing the haunted look in Arthur's eyes was nearly his undoing, the words next uttered definitely capitulated him into the dark abyss called sorrow.

_I died._

_Yes._

And cursed to live an immortal life till the day he returned, _I've waited over a thousand years for you_.

* * *

Arthur took a deep fortifying breath. He died. Given the wretched look on Merlin's face, Merlin had been there to witness it. _I can't lose him; he's my friend - _the words that reverberated through his mind like sharp shards of glass. It hurt. Something tight coiled within the pit of his gut. How ... how did he die? All he knew was that Merlin was there, Merlin was always there.

"Moving out in ten minutes," he heard Lance yell, bringing him back to reality with a sharp jolt.

He quickly glanced at Merlin. He could see the young man was trying to compose himself.

He wasn't going anywhere without him. He never went anywhere without Merlin by his side. He never would again.

He placed a hand on Merlin's shoulder, giving it a light squeeze.

"Go get your kit."

Merlin looked up startled.

"I'm not going anywhere without you."

A warm, wide smile crossed his face. That was better. When Merlin smiled, everything was alright again, would be alright.

"Yes Sir."

* * *

Gwen watched the exchange from the doorway of the cook house. The raw emotion in Arthur's eyes and Emmett's, they were strangely attached to each other. No, not strange when she really thought about it, more that it _was as it should be. _Emmett had that affect on people, like he knew them, really knew who and what they were, more so than Gwen even knew herself. It was odd but familiar. There was something about Emmett that spoke of a lost time.

She watched Emmett smile and quickly walk away. Arthur's hand rested on his hip, looking lost in thought. Then raising his head he looked directly at her.

For a long silent moment, they stood, eyes locked, his expression unreadable.

He began walking, trance-like in her direction and her heart ricocheted in her chest, unable to tear her gaze away from his face, baffled by the strained, haunted pain in his eyes.

Her arms ached to hold him, he looked as if he needed it and she folded her arms across her chest, shivering slightly in the cold morning breeze, cursing for the hundredth time in the last few weeks her inability to forget him.

"Sir," she began, "Are you alright?"

"Please Gwen, just call me Arthur," he muttered, sounding exasperated and tense.

"Are you alright Arthur?" she amended, forcing her eyes to meet his.

Her breath catching in her throat at the shadows in his eyes, he looked tired, lost and uncertain.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he sighed, rubbing his forehead with his hand, looking anything but fine, "Just a weird sort of morning."

Did this have something to do with Emmett? Or their conversation last night, _you have no idea how sorry I am._ Had he meant that? Even if he had, it was too late for sorry, the damage had already been done. She really could not trust her heart to him ever again. But she still cared, far too much. Just seeing him standing there, only a mere foot away was enough to make her hands clench into fists from the warmth spreading throughout her body.

"What were you and Emmett talking about?"

"He ..." Arthur began, as if choosing his words carefully, "Wants to come back out on patrol."

It looked a lot more than that but she wasn't about to press the issue, there was that strained haunted look in his eyes again, something was bothering him and in a big way.

"You don't mind if he does and you go with Gwaine?" he continued.

She managed a smile, "Least I'll be entertained by his endless chatter."

He gave a brief smile in return, a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"He'll probably spend the day trying to chat you up."

"Probably."

"And he's not the only one here."

The name, Lance, hung unspoken between them. She began to shift uncomfortably.

"Emmett wants to be with you," she continued, "He's attached to you."

"No, it's not me. I think he's just bored."

Gwen shook her head, "No, it's you," she softly said, "And you're attached to him, as we all are."

He drew in a heavy breath and gazed deeply in her eyes, as if searching for something.

"You ever think why that is?"

She bit down on her lip, disturbed by the intensity of his gaze.

"He's such a loyal soul, posses a heart that genuinely cares."

"And that's all," he probed.

She saw the confusion in his eyes, the questions, and a cold shiver ran down her spine. What did he mean? What more was there?

"What is it Arthur?"

He sighed and shook his head, "Nothing."

His gaze returned to her face, she saw the regret there. It roused something deep within, something she couldn't even begin to grasp.

Lifting a hand to her hair, he brushed some strands off her face. The simple tender gesture sending her into a disarray of conflicting feelings and every nerve in her body tingled.

"Just be careful," he murmured.

* * *

Merlin watched Arthur as they plodded along in single file. Seeing as he could only see the back of him and not his face it was hard to assess what he was thinking, only that Merlin knew he was lost in thought. No doubt Arthur was struggling coming to terms with everything that had happened this morning. Not that he could blame him.

It was only a matter of time before the questions started. In part, Merlin dreaded it. What could he say if Arthur didn't remember? It would be easier if he did remember. But then there would also be a ton of questions about life after he died. Talking about life after Arthur would be painful, too painful. He would have every right to feel ripped off.

Merlin was the one that had comforted his wife, became her sole adviser.

In the early months, when they were both grieving she'd beg him to stay with her. He would lay next to her in bed at nights, both of them taking comfort in each other, their shared grief. It was nothing more than a brother/sister mourning the loss of a best friend in his case, husband in hers.

It should have been Arthur comforting her, not him and the guilt often ate away at his very soul. He had strived for many years against the resentment he felt.

Gwen in her astuteness would give him that worried look from time to time, "Don't get bitter Merlin."

Times like that he couldn't bring himself to meet her eyes.

"No one blames you," she'd softly say.

"I blame myself," he'd mutter, his body trembling, "I should have done things differently."

The pain and bitterness lessened as Gwen's son became a young boy. He might not be able to change what had happened, but he would look after Gwen, and her and Arthur's son. He would do anything, humanly and magically possible to make sure they were safe, as Arthur would have wanted. He could honour the memory of his friend by doing so.

Make sure his son grew up into the man Arthur would be proud of.

Merlin wasn't aware that the patrol had stopped walking, so lost in the memories, till he walked straight into the back of Arthur.

"Merlin," he grunted, giving him an exasperated look.

Merlin would have toppled over if Arthur's hands hadn't steadied him.

"We have a ten minute break, didn't you hear?"

They did? Arthur's eyes met his.

"Where's your head?"

Somewhere, lost in time, he grimly thought, "I was thinking."

Given the expression of Arthur's face he knew roughly what about, but said nothing. Merlin saw the questions in his eyes. Questions he wanted to ask but now finding it hard to do so or where to start.

They sat down on the ground and Merlin watched as Arthur rolled a cigarette.

"Is this one of those times you need it again?" he lightly inquired.

"You could say that," he muttered.

It was weird watching him smoke.

"You want to be careful you don't get addicted to it," he continued.

Arthur glanced his way.

"I take it I didn't smoke before?"

"There was no such thing then."

Arthur frowned.

"How long ago was it?"

"Hmm, roughly around one thousand two hundred and thirty years give or take a few years."

Arthur coughed, his eyes watering. Merlin hid a smile at the look of astonishment on his face.

"Told you smoking was bad for you," he wryly quipped.

* * *

Arthur blinked, what the hell, one thousand two hundred and thirty years!

"How do you know?" he demanded, "Why do you remember and no one else?"

His eyes fixed on Merlin's face. The young man lowered his eyes but not before Arthur detected the hesitation there.

"I don't know why," he murmured.

Arthur wasn't sure if he believed him.

"Who was I then?"

"Someone," Merlin took a deep breath, "Very important."

"Who were you?"

Merlin took a moment to ponder this before answering, "You're manservant."

Arthur frowned. "I had a manservant?"

Merlin was his manservant ... _'Arthur you are my only son and heir. I can't risk losing you for the sake of some serving boy.'_

Of course, Merlin drank the poison in his place.

'_Because his life is worthless?'_

'_No because his life is worth less than yours.'_

Arthur's hand began to shake.

'_Please father. He saved my life. I can't stand by and watch him die.'_

He remembered the torment of that moment, still felt it now as if it had just happened yesterday, his father's heartless words. '_Then don't look. This boy won't be the last to die on your behalf.'_

Arthur dragged his gaze to Merlin's face.

"Y-You," he stammered, "You were the serving boy."

It was a statement, not a question.

Merlin nodded.

"And I was ..." he began, feeling dazed.

"Prince Arthur then," Merlin finished for him.

Arthur's gaze flew to his face, astounded. What the hell?

"I was a Prince?" he gasped.

No, that was ludicrous.

But Merlin looked serious and Arthur frowned, '_this boy won't be the last to die on your behalf. You're going to be King. It's something you have to get used to'._

He blinked, dazed, "I really was a Prince ..." his voice broke off there.

A funny half smile crossed Merlin's face.

"And a royal, arrogant prat at times," he continued lightly, with amusement.

A sudden memory flashed before his eyes.

'_I'd always thought if things had been different, we would have been good friends.'_

'_Yeah.'_

'_That's if you hadn't been such an arrogant, pompous dollop head.'_

Arthur raised his eyes to Merlin's, heart pounding.

'_Do you know how many times I've had to save your royal backside?'_

"You were more than just a servant," he slowly murmured.

Merlin looked at him thoughtfully, a warmth in his eyes, eyes that crinkled at the corners when he smiled.

"Yeah, I was also your friend."

* * *

There was no more time for further discussion and the questions could wait. Arthur was still so unsure about all that was happening. He'd lived previously, apparently over a thousand years ago and he was a Prince, one day to be a King.

Merlin was there, his manservant, his friend.

He still had the same father. He was still the same person. Not a Prince now but still heir to the same man, a man now running the largest industry in Britain ... and why was he?

Why was he living again?

And if Gwaine was also in his dreams, did that mean Gwaine had lived then too?

He caught up with Merlin, just as they walked into Camp Clifton. It was approaching nightfall.

"If Gwaine was in my dreams, does that mean Gwaine lived then?"

"Yes."

Arthur gave a brief laugh. "Yeah that figures, I would be stuck with the insufferable man both lifetimes."

It was like trying to unravel a complex mystery.

"How is this possible?" he murmured, "Why am I with the same people now as then? Is this some sort of coincidence?"

Merlin shook his head.

"No, it's fate Arthur."

He snorted, "I don't believe in fate."

"Yet here you are."

Arthur looked at him closely, he really was an enigma.

"And yet, you are the only one to remember."

Merlin lowered his eyes.

"Why is that?" he continued.

Merlin shook his head, "I don't know."

"Yes you do."

Merlin took a deep breath.

"Tell me."

"You wouldn't believe me if I did."

With that, Merlin walked away and Arthur watched him go, puzzled.

* * *

Gwen found Lance in the Recreation room, reading the daily paper and approached him. It was time to be honest.

He lowered the paper and smiled warmly at her. She dug her nails into the palms of her hands. This wasn't going to be easy.

"How was your day?" he asked, folding up the paper.

"Boring," she replied, sitting down next to him on the sofa, "Spent most of it stuck in a jeep playing games with Gwaine on his Nintendo."

"Better that than being shot at by insurgents."

She grinned, remembering how that was just yesterday. It was an experience she probably could do without again.

"I'm surprised Gwaine didn't regale you with his many stories."

"He did."

Stories that included a lot of Arthur, how often he beat him at Poker along with a list of things Arthur now owed him. How Arthur thought he was being smart by betting on having a number one and how'd lost. "Ah that was priceless," he'd grinned.

So that is why his hair was so short, she had mused.

Her eyes strayed to Arthur. He was currently sitting at the table, playing cards with Gwaine and Emmett. What were they betting now? She recalled the tender way he had touched her hair this morning, how her body heated up about ten degrees just by his intense gaze.

Why couldn't she just get over him? Then she remembered why she was here, what she needed to say to Lance.

Turning to face Lance, she glanced at him nervously.

"There is something I have to tell you," she spoke, swallowing.

"Why do I get the feeling it isn't good?"

She really didn't want to hurt him but she had to play fair.

"I do like you Lance and a lot, it's just that ... there is someone else."

He didn't look as nearly as surprised as she had expected.

"You mean Arthur?"

Her eyes suddenly met with his, how did he know?

"It's not half obvious," he sighed, "I've seen the way he looks at you."

She clenched her hands tightly together in her lap.

"There is nothing between us now, we were together for a short while but it ended months ago."

She took a deep breath.

"It's just ... it's just too soon for me."

"Why did you break up?" he asked, sounding curious.

"His father hates me and Arthur ... well Arthur, he just does as his father instructs."

She could barely mask the hint of bitterness in her voice.

"I don't want to be with a man who doesn't know his own mind, who cannot be his own person, who does as his father tells him, who cannot think for himself!"

Lance was silent but his gaze quietly assessing.

"His loss," he said at length, "And I think he is now well aware of that."

Gwen lowered her eyes, fighting back the tears.

"Maybe," she murmured, her voice hoarse, "But it's too late."

Lance's hand clasped hers and he gently squeezed her fingers.

"I can't judge him on that, only what I know and see of him and he's a good man. A fine soldier, fair and just, when a lot of young soldiers his age get caught up on the power and ego but not Arthur, he isn't like that. He is all about the platoon, looking after the men under him. He'll do the dirty work. He doesn't act like he is better than anyone else even though he's an Officer. I can see him playing an important role one day as he climbs the ranks and gains experience."

Gwen's eyes rested on Lance, puzzled. He was astute.

"So are you," she breathed, "You are the bravest man I know."

"It's my duty and my honour to restore peace Gwen."

She looked at him wordlessly and took a deep breath.

"I don't think I've ever met someone like you."

He smiled.

"Or I you."

Raising a hand he caressed her cheek.

"I'll wait, till you are over Arthur, when you can love me, you're worth the wait Gwen."

* * *

Arthur watched Gwen and Lance, engaged in conversation. He noticed the way Lance caressed her cheek and fought back the sudden jealousy.

"Look who is getting cosy," Gwaine remarked.

Arthur was normally in control of his emotions, could easily put up with Gwaine's teasing, but not tonight. It hit at a raw spot. Tonight he was feeling way too vulnerable and confused about everything, even his damn own self identity. Nothing made sense anymore. And just the thought of losing Gwen, _I can never trust my heart to you again,_ pained him more than he could ever admit_._

He chucked the cards on the table.

"I've had enough of this," he muttered, scraping his chair back and making a quick escape.

He pushed the door open, welcoming the cold night air on his flushed face.

Hearing footsteps approach he spun around to see Merlin, naturally, and the concern in his eyes.

He held up a warning hand.

"Don't say anything Merlin," he muttered, feeling the bitterness mixed with confusion, "Nothing is the same, I don't even know me, I don't even know if I've ever known myself and now you are telling me I lived over a thousand years ago, that I was some damn Prince and now I find myself with people I knew then, including you and I ..." his voice broke off there and he ran a hand through his hair.

"I don't know, this ... this is insane, it just doesn't make sense!"

Merlin didn't say anything for which Arthur was thankful. He didn't need too. He was there. He already knew.

_Is it really hard to admit that you like her? Just say it._

_I can't! How can I admit I think about her all of the time or that ...I care about her more than anyone ... How can I admit that? _

He ran a hand over his face. How had this happened?

_Nothing can ever happen between us! To admit my feelings ... it hurts too much._

"Don't tell me," he began, letting out a brief bitter laugh as realization sunk in, "Gwen was there too?"

He didn't need a confession of 'yes' from Merlin, his silence was all the confirmation Arthur needed.

"Shit."

His head ached from the confusion the scattered memories caused. His heart ached from remembered emotion, emotions that he couldn't even congruently put together.

"I probably screwed things up then too," he muttered bitterly.

He held up a warning hand again to Merlin, seeing the young man was about to speak. "Don't answer that."

He really didn't want to know. All he wanted right now was to be alone. Turning, he walked away.

* * *

Merlin stood there, clenching and unclenching his fists. Why couldn't it just be easy? He gave a mirthless laugh. Since when had anything been easy!

This would be a lot more simple if Arthur only remembered everything in one hit instead of brief snatches here and there. He could only imagine how confusing that would be. How much it must be doing his head in.

Sighing sadly, Merlin wrapped his arms around himself against the chilly night air.

"Is everything okay?" he heard a man ask, and turning his head he saw Lancelot.

_Yeah, sure, everything is just super _he inwardly muttered.

"It's just Arthur ..." his voice broke off there.

How could he tell Lance about Arthur's feelings for Gwen, when the man had feelings for her too? God it was too reminiscent of old times, he mused bitterly.

"Has feelings for Gwen," Lancelot finished for him.

Merlin didn't say anything and merely nodded.

"As do you?"

Lance glanced out across the compound, a thoughtful look on his face.

"My feelings don't matter, if she is still in love with him," he eventually spoke.

Lance glanced sideways at him.

"Is she?"

It wasn't fair that Lance had to feel the same and suffer the same loss, again, but he couldn't lie.

"Yes, I think she does though she tries to deny it."

"Yet, Arthur left her because of his father dislike towards her?"

It sounded bad, when put that way.

"It's complicated and well let's just say his father is a ruthless man. Arthur thought he was doing the right and fair thing."

"At a cost to himself," Lance murmured.

He was still so astute.

"I will not come between them," he continued.

Merlin shut his eyes, Lancelot, still as honourable now as he had been then.

"I like her because she has a way of making me believe in myself," he admitted.

The silence stretched before Lance gave a bitter, amused laugh.

"It's funny," he began, "But I feel like we've had this conversation before."

_That's because we have _Merlin wryly mused.

Lance pattered him on the back.

"Don't stay up too late," he said warmly, as he went to leave, "We have an early start and you are still recovering."

"I'm fighting fit now," Merlin snorted.

Lance glanced over his shoulder and grinned at him.

"That's what you always say, Emmett, even when on point of collapsing."

* * *

_Gwen is kneeling on the ground. She sighs with grief, her face streaked with tears. He turns around and glares at her as he slowly walks past her. Still in disbelief at what she has done._

_She is staring at the ground, unable to meet his eyes._

'_What are you still doing on your knees? Am I just your King? Get up for goodness sake.'_

_She slowly and gingerly stands to her feet. He circles her, his rage palpable, her betrayal burning like acid in his stomach._

'_I was to be your husband.'_

_The words left such a bitter taste in his mouth._

_He faces her, her distressed eyes met his._

'_What happened Guinevere?'_

_He's trying to understand, wants to but he can't. How could she do this to him?!_

_She tries to say something, but sadly shakes her head._

'_We were happy. I know we were happy.'_

_She nods painfully._

'_You felt it too?'_

_Her eyes closed. She nods her head, still unable to speak._

'_You love him? You've always loved him?'_

_She shakes her head and whispers, 'No.'_

'_All those times you said you wanted to be with me?'_

'_I meant every word.'_

'_Tomorrow ... was our wedding day.'_

_She nods painfully, closing her eyes, suffering through a new bout of tears, "I know."_

'_If you had worries ...'_

_She shakes her head, 'I wasn't worried.'_

'_If you had doubts ...'_

'_I didn't have any doubts.'_

'_Then forgive me! Because I must be really stupid! What were you doing?!'_

_Overwhelmed by the anger raging through him he steps forward and grabs her arms in a vice like grip. Guinevere sobs and looks at him. He sees the emotional agony in her eyes._

_Suddenly realizing what he's doing, he lets her go. He turns away, trying to calm himself._

'_Do you know what they are saying?'_

_He points to the doors that the councilmen left threw. She shakes her head._

'_That in my father's day, you'd be put to death.'_

_She takes a deep breath, and he can see she awaits his decision._

'_I don't want to see you dead, Guinevere.'_

_It was the truth, but he can never forgive her. 'But I don't want to see you.'_

_She looks distraught by his answer._

'_I cannot look on you every day. You will leave Camelot at first light ...'_

'_Arthur,' she implores._

_He hardens his heart._

'_You return upon pain of death.'_

'_No,' she gasps as more tears roll down her cheeks._

_He walks past her and towards the door, his mind made up. She has forever shattered his trust in her._

'_No, no, no! I cannot be without you!' she stutter's in a broken voice._

'_That is my decision,' he states coldly._

'_Where will I go?'_

_He stops at the door and turns to look at her._

'_I am sorry. I am truly sorry.'_

He just wanted this to end, this dream, was too painful ... wake up! He had to wake up!

"I'm sorry," he muttered, tossing to and fro on his bed.

The sudden shrill of the alarm clock sent him sitting bolt upright in his bed. His t-shirt soaked in perspiration. It took a moment for him to get his bearings.

"Gwen!"

What had he done?

He couldn't explain the sudden desperation. Flinging the bed covers aside he leapt out of bed, his foot catching in the tousled blanket and he went sprawling to the ground, banging his head hard on the bedside table.

He lay there dazed for a moment, the alarm still ringing shrilling.

Gwaine was muttering.

"What the hell, Arthur, turn that thing off."

Arthur dragged himself up into a sitting position, feeling warm blood trickling down his face. He raised a hand to his head where he had hit it.

By this time Gwaine had gotten out of his bed, turned off Arthur's alarm clock before looking down at him.

"What the hell happened to you?" he exclaimed.

"I-I fell out of bed," he muttered.

His head started to clear. It was a dream. That's all. Just a dream and then he shut his eyes. _They are not dreams are they? They're memories._

He didn't want it to be a memory. No it was a damn dream, that's all. He dreamt of her because he was thinking about her before he fell asleep. There was a perfectly logical explanation and they hadn't had that terrible row, where he felt betrayed by her to the point that he could no longer even look at her.

Gwaine had crouched down beside him.

"Here put this on your head," he said, holding out a hand towel.

Arthur took it from him and placed it against the cut on his head, noticing the way his hand shook.

So had Gwaine.

"You were dreaming again?"

Arthur frowned.

"You do that a lot," Gwaine continued, his expression curious, "Sometimes you say the weirdest things."

He did?

"Like what?"

"Last night when I came to bed you were muttering something about Guinevere, whoever she is and then a couple of nights ago you kept calling out Merlin."

Arthur froze.

"It's not the first time either."

He met Gwaine's curious gaze.

"So who is this Merlin?"

Arthur tried to look nonchalant, but his heart was beating at a rapid rate.

"Just some kid I once knew," he slowly returned.

"I knew a Merlin once," Gwaine murmured and scratched his head, looking puzzled, "damned if I can remember him though."

Arthur felt like letting out an insane crazy laugh, _'That's because you did!'_

Is this how Merlin felt?

Merlin would know if his dream was real or not.

"I probably should go to the medical center and get my head looked at," he muttered, scrambling to his feet.

He would find Merlin there. And he needed some answers.

Feeling woozy he waited a moment for it to subside before pulling on a pair of tracksuit pants and jacket.

He walked barefoot to the medical center holding the hand towel to his head. He went barreling through the door of the medical center expecting to find Merlin there but much to his surprise Gwen looked up from the desk.

For a moment he was too shocked to say anything, the images from his dream still fresh in his mind causing him all sorts of conflicting emotions. That he tried to shrug off.

"Arthur?" she began, slowly standing to her feet.

"Where's Mer ... Emmett?"

That came out terser than he had meant.

She blinked.

"Sorry, didn't mean to say it like that," he stammered.

Her eyes rested on his head and then a concerned frown dented her forehead.

"What happened to you?" she asked, moving from around the desk towards him.

"I fell out of bed."

His face reddened with sudden embarrassment. He was shot at by insurgents at least once a week and he happened to injure himself by falling out of bed, he dryly mused, just great.

He saw the hint of amusement in her eyes as her hand rested on his arm.

"Come and sit down and I'll take a look."

She led him to a chair and he sat down. Hell he needed to. Being in her presence, as always, just filled him with an intense longing to pull her into his arms. Even more so after last night's dream which still left him shaken and confused. _What happened between us? Why was I so angry at you?_

He lowered the hand towel from his head and she inspected the wound. She was so close, he could reach out his hands and encircle her waist ... and don't even think about it, he silently chided.

"It's not that bad," she spoke, "but it is quite deep, I'll glue it back together again."

She moved away and he watched as she pulled out a dressing pack, placed it on a tray and began opening it.

"Thank god for surgical glue," she chatted, "Much easier than stitches."

"Yeah, it is."

Great going, he couldn't think of anything more intelligent to say?

"You didn't lose consciousness at all?" she asked.

"No."

Picking up a pad of gauze with tweezers, she had dipped in an antiseptic solution before swabbing the cut on his head, causing him to wince.

"Sorry," she breathed, "This will hurt a bit."

He tried not to look at her body, as she leant over him, the way the army green shirt was tucked into her pants and her slim waist or the outline of her breasts as they strained against her shirt. Not that there was anything terribly flattering about wearing Army greens as opposed to the pretty dress she wore in his dream. He felt warmth flood his face and tried concentrating on the GP boots she wore instead.

"Do you like being in the Army?" he asked.

"Yes and no," she replied.

The glue stung as she applied it and he tried not to wince again.

"I like my job, but I really don't like the regimented Army rules and the way they do things, could do without the charming uniform too," she quipped with a smile.

"Huh, yeah, I know what you mean."

Though not really, only in as much as the stupid rule being, Officers not allowed getting into a relationship with Non-Officers.

She had such a soft gentle touch. Glad it was her treating him, even if it was tortuous, least it meant he had some time with her. And the feel of her fingers on his head, felt nice, too nice.

"What about you?" she asked.

"If it means I don't have to work for my father, then yes," he muttered, barely containing the bitterness from his voice.

Her hand went still, as it rested on his head.

Damn he shouldn't have said that.

"Sorry didn't mean to mention him."

"It's okay."

He couldn't bring himself to look at her and much to his surprise her fingers lightly stroked his hair. He closed his eyes and fought the sudden longing to pull her into his arms and kiss her. She had no idea what she was doing to him.

"I wouldn't place anymore bets with Gwaine if I were you," she spoke, removing her hand from his hair.

He was glad for the change of topic, and raised his eyes to hers. He could see she was already regretting her moment of weakness by touching his hair, a hint of colour in her cheeks.

"Oh he told you about that huh?" he said to put her at ease.

She managed a smile.

"You know Gwaine, he likes to boast."

He smiled in return.

"Yeah," he sighed, "I should have known better."

Seeing the warmth in her eyes made it almost impossible for him to resist reaching out a hand to touch her face.

He clenched his hands into fist to stop himself doing just that.

She tore her gaze away from his.

"You're all fixed up now," she quickly said, tidying up the dressing pack and putting it in the bin.

He slowly rose to his feet.

"Thanks Gwen."

In the dream he called her Guinevere. Was that her name then? Like Emmett was Merlin or was Gwen shortened for something else?

"Your name," he began, "Is it a shortened version?"

She turned to him puzzled.

"No," she began, then pausing, "Well yes, but I don't like being called it," she hastily added, a flash of pain in her eyes.

"I changed it by Deed Poll," she continued.

Arthur was taken aback. Why would she do that?

"It's just Gwen now."

He wanted to ask why? He had to know but given the pained look in her eyes he couldn't bring himself to do so. His heart thudded heavily in his chest.

She handed him a warm face washer, her expression guarded.

"You should wipe your face with this. It still has blood on it."

He took it from her, his fingers brushing against hers.

"Okay, just Gwen," he said, lightly.

A smile flittered across her pretty face. He couldn't help himself, raising a hand he lightly ran his thumb up along her jaw line.

She shivered and his hand dropped to his side.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, moving quickly across to the mirror above the hand basin and wiping his face with the face washer, inwardly cursing himself, _you idiot_.

"Arthur," she spoke.

He turned slowly. She stood there clasping both her hands together, looking as awkward as he felt.

"I won't be here when you get back, George is well enough to return and I'll be going back to Camp Bastion."

He didn't know whether to feel relieved or not. He wanted her here, just to see her pretty face everyday yet at the same time he wanted to be put out of his torture. And the torture of seeing her and Lance getting cosy together, as Gwaine had put it last night.

"A lot safer there than here."

"And you'll ..."

"Look after Emmett," he finished for her, with a ghost of a smile.

She gave a tremulous smile in return.

* * *

Gwen fell back in the chair, groaning, after Arthur had left, burying her face in her hands.

It wasn't fair. Why was it so hard to forget him and feel nothing? It's not as if they even had a proper relationship to begin with.

"You alright Gwen?"

She looked up startled. Emmett stood there, concerned.

"I'm fine."

She forced a smile to her lips but Emmett didn't look convinced.

"Was Arthur here?" he inquired.

"Yes, he hit his head when he fell out of bed this morning," she returned.

An amused smile crossed his face, "Arthur fell out of bed?"

She really didn't want to talk about Arthur.

"Did you eat breakfast?" she asked.

"Yes mom," Emmett returned.

Her hands rested on her hips.

"Someone has to worry about you."

"Hmm, I know, well I better get my stuff together. Patrol is moving out in ten minutes."

Gwen helped him put the necessary medical equipment in his kit.

"This is our last morning together," she sighed.

"I'm going to miss you," he said, and meant it, everything was just so much better when she was here."

"Me too, now you'll look after yourself when I'm gone?"

"Yes mom," he quipped again and she playfully hit him.

"What is this ..." she began, leaning over him and pulling a hair out off his head.

"Ouch, what was that for?"

He rubbed his head, and the sore spot from the now yanked out single hair. She held up the hair with an amused smile.

"It's a grey hair."

His face froze in disbelief.

"What?"

No, that wasn't possible.

"Don't worry, it's just one."

"B-But ..." he spluttered, "It can't be."

Gwen's smile widened.

"I guess you're thinking 21 is too young to start going grey."

No, that was so not what he was thinking! Try more like along the lines, _I don't age_!

She patted his hand.

"Don't worry. I'm sure it'll be a number of years yet before you go grey."

"It's probably the stress of this place," he muttered, his head reeling.

What did this mean?

He drew in a deep breath, as realization dawned.

It could only mean one thing for him, time was moving, his time, he was no longer immortal.

* * *

The days passed by before Arthur could even bring himself to talk to Merlin about the dream of Gwen. He wanted to remain in a state of disillusionment and not that he'd screwed up things with her in that lifetime as much as he had this one. Just the thought of that haunted his days and nights.

They were on another arduous foot patrol that required sleeping out, in freezing cold weather now it was January. Christmas day and New Year's Eve had come and gone. They had been at Camp Clifton for a total of two and a half months with only two weeks left till R&R.

Something the men were looking forward to.

"You've been quiet this last week," Merlin spoke, as Arthur lay down next to him.

If he was going to huddle up to anyone for warmth on these freezing nights then it would be Merlin. It was always Merlin. It just felt right and familiar, and Merlin was the only person who understood him, knew him on another facet that Arthur didn't show to other people.

He might have been his manservant in that other time but he was also his best friend, wise adviser, sometimes annoying, like a younger brother but he would be lost without him.

"It's Gwen isn't it?" Merlin continued.

Arthur sighed. "I had a dream about her."

"Least I hope it's a dream," he continued.

Merlin was shivering, his teeth rattling and Arthur frowned.

"Jesus Merlin, you're freezing," he muttered, feeling sorry and oddly tender towards him, "You're all skin and bones. You need to put some meat on those bones."

"I'm alright, I'll warm up soon," he replied through chattering teeth.

Arthur rolled his eyes, "Come here."

He pulled the blankets over him and put an arm around him, for warmth.

"Tell anyone about this, and I'll kill you," he muttered.

Merlin laughed.

"Just don't mistake me for Gwen in the middle of night," he quipped.

"Shut up Merlin."

Silence fell and Merlin's shivering eased up.

"What was the dream about?" Merlin asked at length.

Arthur sighed and began to explain the dream to Merlin. After he'd finished he waited for Merlin to say something but he didn't.

"Tell me it was just a dream," he muttered, feeling more anxious by the minute.

"You know it's not Arthur," Merlin replied.

He screwed his eyes shut. Damn.

"I banished her?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"It was a misunderstanding, and a bad one."

"Much like now," he muttered bitterly, "I screwed up then too."

Merlin rolled over to face him.

"It turned out okay in the end," he murmured, "You did end up with Gwen."

For the first time in over a week Arthur felt some sweet relief.

"I did?"

Merlin nodded and smiled, "Yeah, you did."

A slow smile crossed his face as he rolled onto his back and stared up at the stars.

"Did I call her Guinevere?" he asked.

"Yes."

"But you called her Gwen?"

"She's always been Gwen to me."

Merlin's words, _'Gwen, you can't leave me, you're all I have' _came back to mind. An unsettled feeling began to stir in the pit of his guts as a thought took hold.

"Merlin ... did you see Gwen die?"

The silence stretched out for so long and when Arthur turned his head to look at him, he was taken aback by the distress on his face.

He didn't need a confession.

"Tell me she didn't die before me?" he quickly asked.

"No," he whispered, "Many years later."

He didn't know whether to feel good about that or not? How many years later? But Merlin's next words haunted him. "Everybody died Arthur."

Arthur felt his stomach twist into knots.

"When did you die?" he asked.

But Merlin didn't answer. Maybe he had fallen asleep but when he glanced at Merlin he saw the tortured look on his face.

"Tell me?"

'_Can't die ... I can't die ... I want to die.'_

Arthur shivered at the memory and words. What had Merlin meant by that?

"I can't answer that yet," Merlin murmured, so softly that Arthur only just heard him.

The young man looked deeply distressed. Something bad had happened to him, something too painful for him to talk about.

"It's alright now," he said softly, pulling him closer, "It'll be alright."

* * *

The following day, two squads were sent up to the ridge-line due to a report of insurgent activity. It was a sunny day and the mood was high. There was him, Lance, Percy, Merlin the medic and ten other soldiers.

"You know you don't have to come," Lance said to him.

Arthur knew that, but he wasn't about to leave Merlin out here without his protection. He had promised Gwen after all, and Morgana, but that wasn't the only reason and he knew it.

"Just because I'm Officer I get to miss out on all the action," he quipped to Lance.

Lance grinned. "Generally speaking, yes."

The men chatted about what they would do during their two weeks of R&R.

During break time Merlin was telling some funny story. It was hard to believe he'd ever suffered any sorrow but Arthur remembered last night. Merlin had suffered and yet he still had that same cheerful manner.

The men laughed at Merlin, and a slow smile crossed Arthur's face. How did Merlin know so many amusing antidotes?

"Alright chaps, time to move on," Lance instructed.

The words had no sooner left his mouth, when a whistling sound could be heard.

"Incoming!" a soldier yelled.

Arthur had little time to react as the IED rocket exploded just meters from him. Everything moved in slow motion. He was aware of Merlin running towards him before the bomb hit. He was sent flying backwards and sharp, sudden pain radiated throughout his body.

He lay there stupefied, trying to grasp what was happening around him. Screams reverberated in his ears, along with yelling, lots of yelling.

His legs felt as if they were on fire. He couldn't move and panic hit him. Something was wrong, terribly wrong. The bomb ... there had been an explosion.

He forced his eyes open in time to see Merlin crawl towards him, a fierce determination on his pale, blood soaked face.

"Merlin," he croaked, the pain in his legs excruciatingly unbearable, "You're hurt."

"Not as bad as you," he grunted, as he pulled his water bottle free from his belt.

"Merlin ... Merlin."

He fought to hold on to consciousness as Merlin poured water over his legs.

Arthur heard the foreign language of the insurgents as they neared. Soon they would be dead men.

"Merlin, g-get out of here."

"I'm not leaving you."

Arthur tightly squeezed his eyes shut as the pain in his legs intensified.

"Y-You have to ... Merlin," he muttered through gritted teeth.

His eyes sprung open. They were going to die. He was already good as dead.

The young man's sad, panic filled eyes met his.

"I won't lose you," he breathed in a ragged breath, "not again."

Arthur heard the insurgents approach, Merlin leaned over him in a protective gesture.

"You idiot! What can you do?"

"Just watch me," he hissed, his body trembling as if he was in great pain.

Merlin raised a hand and his eyes flashed with a bright gold light. It sent chills down Arthur's back.

He watched as insurgents went flying backwards and his eyes widened with shock. Sudden realization, painful in its intensity hit him hard. The boy in his drawings wasn't a figment of his imagination. The boy was real. The boy was Merlin. He hadn't forgotten him. Not really, Merlin had always been part of him.

_I'm sorcerer. I have magic. And I use it for you Arthur. Only for you._

The dragon from the fire ... that hand, his face, pain, fear and doubt, Arthur swallowed his throat felt so dry. Merlin's eyes met his, that same fearful look, the shame and the same pain.

Tears blurred his vision and he raised a hand to grasp his shoulder.

Merlin, his faithful servant, his best friend, like a brother, always there, always saving him even when he treated him bad.

"Merlin," he breathed his voice not much more than a croak, "Merlin."

_It's you, I know you, I remember ... you._

It all came back in one crashing Kaleidoscope of myriad memories and emotions, like a film in rewind; Merlin, face laughing, teasing; Merlin, sad, quiet, withdrawn, _No man is worth your tears_.

Merlin, always by his side.

_Some men are born to plough fields, some live to be great physicians, others to be great kings. Me, I was born to serve you Arthur. And I'm proud of that. And I wouldn't change a thing._

Merlin holding him as he died, _I can't lose him, _the deep gut wrenching pain in his voice, _he's my friend!_

Why ... why hadn't Merlin told him the truth? Now there was no time, no time left to say how sorry he was, how wrong he had been back then.

_Everything you've done. I know now ... for me, for Camelot. For the kingdom you helped me build._

"I know," the words not more than a whisper on his breath, "I-I remember."

Hope flared in the young man's eyes.

"Then you know I've always been with you," he said, earnestly.

'_All these years, Merlin ... You never once sought any credit.'_

'_It's not why I do it.'_

"W-Why ..." he began his voice hoarse.

_Why didn't you tell me?_

_I wanted to, but ..._

'_What?'_

'_You'd chopped my head off.'_

'_I'm not sure what I would have done.'_

'_And I didn't want to put you in that position.'_

'_That's what worried you?'_

"I-I wouldn't have," Arthur stammered, fighting to remain conscious, "I wouldn't have hurt you ... I could never have ... hurt you."

"I know," Merlin sighed, his voice laced with so much sadness, "I know that now."

'_Merlin, whatever happens ...'_

'_Shh ... don't talk.'_

'_I'm the King, Merlin. You can't tell me what to do.'_

'_I always have. I'm not going to change now.'_

'_I don't want you to change. I want you ... to always ... be you.'_

"You d-didn't ... change, Merlin, all this time a-and you didn't change."

The pained look Merlin shot his way nearly broke what was left of his heart.

"I didn't," the young man spluttered, "I waited over a thousand years for you Arthur ... such a long time ... I lived for so long in hope, just waiting."

Merlin shook uncontrollably.

"Merlin," he sighed, bringing a hand up to the back of the young man's head.

Merlin screwed his eyes shut, as if in pain.

"W-We ... are not going to die ... here."

Then much to Arthur's horror Merlin's body began to shudder before he fell against his chest.

He wasn't alright, far from it and sudden panic filled him.

"Merlin!"

The young man lay still as the air itself, unmoving, unflinching, "Merlin!"

Gut wrenching pain filled his heart ... no ... no ... 'don't you dare die on me!'

He sobbed, for all that was loss, he sobbed, for all that could have been. He sobbed, because now he'd found him again, he was also going to lose him.

_Just, just hold me. Please. _He did what Merlin had done a thousand years ago, pulled him tight against his own chest as the darkness consumed him.

.

.

* * *

**A/N: I told you it would be dramatic when Arthur remembered! Don't worry, of course they will not die! Otherwise that would be the end of the story, hmm. **

**Please review and let me know what you think. I'm most anxious about this chapter. I hope it was okay? Like I said it was hard to write in parts and time was against me!**

**I probably will not be able to update for at least a week as I will be away for the next five days and I'm sorry to leave this chapter on such a cliff hanger of an ending.**

**I will endeavor to write the next chapter as soon as I can.**

**Sigh, I don't know what happened to my Merlin picture! Only that I'm really sad about it! When I look at my picture in my Avatar it's there but not when I go on the Merlin fanfiction site.**

**Thank you for reading.**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: I know this is the longest time elapsed for me to upload the next chapter, but as I was away down South for five days I've only gotten to write this chapter in the last couple of days. Not to mention that I've been trying to get through my pile of marking that seems never ending.**

** I don't think it's as good as the previous two chapters though I tried my best. However there are one or two surprises. It is a bit grim at present but it won't always be like that and plenty of light hearted moments to come.**

**Thank you for all of the wonderful reviews on the last chapter! They really do make my day.**

**Special thanks also to Sonia for editing this chapter for me. It really does help to have someone pick up mistakes I seem to miss no matter how many times I read through the chapter!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

_**Chapter 15. Grim Tidings**_

* * *

It only took Lance a couple of minutes to get his bearings. Amid the dust, the desperate shouts had subsided and an eerie silence followed, which was in many ways worse. Panic hit him hard in the guts. How bad was it? Please god, don't let it be a blood bath, he silently begged. Checking his own body for any serious injury, he was relieved to find he had only minor injuries, mostly scraps and cuts from flying pieces of shrapnel, but none that had hit anything vital. He hadn't been as close to the bomb blast and had had enough time to hit the ground, but the force from the blast still reverberated throughout his whole body.

His ears were ringing and dust clogged his throat making it difficult to breathe.

Grabbing his water bottle he poured fresh water over his eyes in an attempt to clear them.

Where were the insurgents? Sure he had heard them approaching and dreaded the worst, they didn't stand a chance. The enemy had the upper hand and they should have all been mowed down by now so why weren't they?

His eyes scanned the immediate area that resembled the bloody battle ground it had become. Bodies lay strewn across the desert ground but the dust made it hard to see. A ghost of a person emerged from the dust and Lance was instantly reassured to see Percy come into view.

He looked as shell shocked as Lance felt and he stumbled towards him.

"Are you alright?" he asked, voice laced with worry and concern.

Percy nodded, "Y-Yeah," he stammered, "I think so."

"The insurgents?"

"Gone ... I-I don't know what happened, just one minute they were there and then they weren't."

That was lucky but how? What had driven them back? And how many men were killed, injured ..."Is it bad?"

Percy shut his eyes; shook his head and panic hit Lance once again. They had no time to waste. He had to assess the causalities, how many dead, seriously injured and where was the medic, where was Emmett?

Further dread hit him square in the stomach as he recalled Emmett running towards Arthur ... Arthur was close to the bomb blast.

No ... damn ... no.

He staggered through the dust in what he thought was their last vicinity, tripping over a soldier. He straightened himself and gazed down at the soldier's lifeless eyes staring up at the sky. A lump formed in his throat. Private Jones, he was so young, just 19 and now his life was over in a blink of an eye, unfortunate to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

He'd seen enough death; too much but now wasn't the time for breaking down. He had to find Emmett and Arthur, they couldn't be far.

His eyes fell on Emmett's dark head of hair. He hurried over to him. The sight that greeted him made him stop in his tracks. Emmett was half slumped over Arthur's chest and Arthur had both arms wrapped around him as if in their last moment they took comfort from each other.

Tears pooled in his eyes.

They can't be dead.

Pulling his emotions into check, Lance sunk to his knees. Hands shaking, he touched Emmett, feeling for any unusual protuberances, such as broken bones. Then he noticed the ugly gash to his head. Carefully he moved Emmett out of Arthur's arms.

Arthur was strangely protective over Emmett, something the men had often joked about, but Lance had thought there was something more to it, like there was a strong connection between the two. A connection that spoke of another time and place, Lance shook his head. The oddest thoughts filled his head. Thoughts that made him ponder because they made no sense, but were meaningful all the same.

Lance looked down at Emmett's still body and began to inspect his head. Only a piece of shrapnel could have caused such a blow and Lance swallowed. Why wasn't he wearing a helmet? That's right, they had just begun to move out and Emmett was always the last to put it on, too concerned about fixing everyone else, making sure they were alright.

Lance quickly felt for a pulse. It was weak but there and he let out a relieved shaky breath.

Ripping into a nearby kit he pulled out bandages.

"Percy!" he yelled, "Call for the medical response unit, we have casualties with serious injuries, a soldier already dead."

He efficiently and quickly wrapped the crepe bandage around Emmett's head and gently lay the young man down on the ground before inspecting Arthur.

His hands felt his chest and down towards his legs and his stomach rolled at the grisly sight. Arthur's right leg lay at an odd angle. Lance could tell straight away it was badly fractured and he saw the bone protruding through his skin just above his ankle.

Shit, this wasn't good.

Acting quickly he tore apart what remained of Arthur's smouldering khaki trousers, revealing multiple burns to both his legs. He couldn't think straight and moved purely on autopilot. Reaching for his water bottle he soaked the crepe bandages with water, before applying them firstly to Arthur's left leg. From what he could see there were no bones protruding from that leg, but the knee was grossly swollen. He did the same for the right leg, not daring to move the leg in fear of making the fracture worse. The burns reached half way up his thigh.

Arthur moaned and Lance's gaze flew to his face.

"Arthur," he called, touching the man's shoulder.

Arthur's face was screwed up in pain and beads of perspiration trickled down his forehead, along with tears.

"I'm sorry," Lance murmured, "This will hurt."

Arthur's eyes opened.

"Merlin?"

Who was Merlin?

"It's me Arthur, Lance."

He noted the sudden panic and fear in Arthur's eyes.

"Where is Merlin?"

Such desperation laced through the hoarseness of his voice. Arthur attempted to sit up but fell back as the pain obviously became too much for him.

"M-My legs," he muttered through gritted teeth, eyes tightly shut.

"Your right leg is fractured Arthur, lay still till the medical team gets here."

It was heart breaking to see the strong young man in such a state. It tugged away at some half forgotten memory Lance couldn't recall.

"I-Is Merlin alive ..." he began, his voice ragged.

Arthur's eyes opened and he slowly turned his head, reaching a hand out to Emmett.

"Merlin," he murmured before passing out.

Then it suddenly dawned on him. Arthur was referring to Emmett.

Something tightly clutched his insides and Lance leaned back on his heels.

Images flashed before his eyes. He was in some castle, sitting next to Emmett.

'_You're the one Arthur should knight. You're the bravest of us all and he doesn't even know it.'_

His eyes slowly rested on the same young man.

"It's you," he murmured, taking a deep breath, "You really are Merlin."

* * *

Gwen's heart always jumped into her throat whenever the call came through that there had been an IED bomb explosion with severe casualties and soldiers killed. The triage was quickly set up, the Medical Officer on board the medical rescue team radioed in.

Two soldiers were dead, another four seriously injured, two with pulmonary injuries, one an open head injury, the other an open fracture and burns to his legs. Five more soldiers had a range of minor injuries consisting of shrapnel and minor to major burns of different degrees.

They were in for a long night. Gwen had a nervous sick feeling in her stomach for reasons she couldn't explain. It wasn't as if she hadn't been exposed to such injuries. But the reported attack did happen in the vicinity which Arthur's platoon often patrolled and she could only hope Emmett was alright.

Not that she had much time to think. The helicopter had landed and the casualties were being carted in on stretchers.

"Gwen, in with me," Medical Officer Johnson, the orthopaedic specialist, instructed.

Gwen did as he bid, walking into the theatre as a soldier, carried in on a stretcher, was placed on the operating table.

She knew his fair hair in an instant and her eyes widened in shock.

Arthur?

She gazed down at his pale face, covered in dust and dirt. Oh god Arthur! Her breath caught in her throat. What had happened to him ... Arthur?

"Gwen," Officer Johnson snapped, "You need to focus."

Of course, of course she did ... but this was Arthur, and he was hurt and how badly hurt was he?

The Medical Officer was inspecting Arthur's legs. Gwen's eyes drifted to them, feeling suddenly sick and dizzy.

His legs were in a bad way. There were numerous shrapnel sites in both legs but especially his right leg which had an open fracture, the jagged bone erupting from the skin above his ankle. She brought a hand up to her mouth and tears filled her eyes. Then there were the burns to his legs, and from experience it didn't take much to determine their severity ranged from moderate to major.

Get it together Gwen, she silently chided, don't think of him as Arthur but just another injured soldier. Luckily he was heavily sedated as she could only imagine the pain he would be in and the thought of him suffering such pain brought more tears to her eyes.

"Lucy you clean the wound and Gwen dress the burns," Johnson instructed.

Fighting back the tears as now was hardly the time for an emotional breakdown. Arthur needed her, and he needed her to be with it so she could help him to the best of her ability. She scrubbed her hands before putting on a pair of surgical gloves. Her hands shook so badly she took a few deep breaths to calm herself.

_You can do this_, she whispered silently.

Gwen cleansed the burns, starting with his left leg as the other medic, Lucy, cleaned the wound site where his bone protruded through the skin. She bit down on her lip as she cut away bits of fabric that had stuck to the burns, working efficiently. She was in control as long as she didn't think of who he was.

Once done with that Gwen debrided the blisters on his leg before covering his leg with a topical antibiotic ointment. Then she wrapped his leg in a sterile sheet.

Meanwhile X-rays and a CT scan were taken of both his legs.

He had a comminuted fracture in his right lower leg. The bones were shattered in as many as six places in both the fibula and tibia. His left leg was luckily, fracture free but there was some muscle damage by the shrapnel and cartilage damage to the knee.

"We can't treat him here; the burns further complicate the injury. He needs to be evacuated to Birmingham Hospital ASAP."

Strong, heavy antibiotics were put into the IV to ward off infection and gas gangrene, a complication from such injuries. Gwen's heart sank at the probability of Arthur's leg being amputated from the knee down. She had seen it often enough to know.

Once Arthur was stabilized the enormity of what had happened hit Gwen hard. Removing the surgical gloves tears began to roll down her cheeks.

She sagged against the counter and brought a trembling hand up to her forehead.

"Are you alright?" Lucy asked, alongside her.

Gwen slowly nodded, took a deep breath.

"Just that ... I know him."

Lucy put a comforting arm across her shoulders.

"It's always hard but he seems strong," Lucy spoke in a calm soothing voice, "His blood pressure is good, his heart rate steady and he doesn't have any pulmonary or abdominal injuries. He'll be fine."

Gwen wiped her tears away. Of course she knew all of those things, but still ... it was Arthur and seeing him like that ... left her feeling emotionally shattered.

It always was tough going in to theatre but even more so when it was someone she knew, and especially someone she loved. Because no matter how many times she tried to deny it, she had never really stopped loving him. She doubted she ever would.

"Gwen," a woman spoke urgently from the doorway.

She looked up to see Gayle walk hurriedly towards her. Seeing the serious expression on Gayle's face caused her heart to drop. What now? What else could possibly be wrong?

"What is it?" she asked, feeling a sudden sense of foreboding at the young nurse's expression.

"It's Emmett," Gayle began and icy cold fear gripped her heart.

"He's suffered a head injury and chest problems."

Gwen tightly gripped the sides of the bench. She hadn't even known he was injured!

Her skin suddenly felt clammy and her mouth went dry.

"Please tell me he is going to be okay," she whispered in a hoarse voice.

He had to be!

Gayle slowly shook her head and Gwen froze.

"It's bad Gwen," she continued, "Too much swelling on the brain. It's further complicated by pulmonary contusion and lacerations. He's slipped into a coma. It's critical. The doctor's don't think he'll pull through."

The words barely registered in her head as black spots swam before her eyes, _critical .._. _slipped into a coma ... don't think he'll pull through._

No! No, it couldn't be? It was a mistake, just some horrible mistake.

"I'm sorry," Gayle said softly, placing a hand on her shoulder.

Gwen shrugged her hand away. This was wrong. Emmett wasn't going to die. She wouldn't let him.

"I want to see him," she murmured. She had to see him with her own eyes. Then she would know it was a mistake.

Gayle led her down the corridors. Gwen felt surreal as the everyday familiar noises of the hospital sounded muffled in her ears. This wasn't happening. It couldn't be happening.

It was a terrible dream and soon she would wake up.

"He's here Gwen," Gayle softly spoke.

They had stopped? How long ago? Gwen averted her eyes from the pity in Gayle's.

Heart pounding in her chest, she moved trancelike to his bed.

Her eyes slowly came to rest on his still form. He looked so pale and thin amid the numerous tubes going into his body, his head swathed in bandages.

Then it felt as if a dam had suddenly burst and she broke down.

"Emmett," she cried, clinging to him, "You can't die on me ... this isn't how it's supposed to be."

Sobs racked her whole body.

Within the space of less than one hour, her life had crashed down into fragments around her. She was going to lose everything she had ever held dear, everything that had ever mattered to her. Emmett was her best friend, like a younger brother, wise, kind, always there and she couldn't be without him in her life ... because ... he had always been _there._

* * *

After the medical helicopter had left Lance sat on the ground, still shocked and dazed.

Fragmented images swam before his eyes, they were elusive and he tried to grasp them.

_He wasn't going to let Merlin do it._

_Merlin always was willing to sacrifice himself before everyone else, but not this time. This time he would be the one making the sacrifice._

"Lance," a voice spoke but he was lost, floating somewhere between water and air.

"Lance," the voice came again, sounding urgent.

He felt a hand on his shoulder. "Snap out of it mate."

He blinked. "W-What?" he asked dazed, running a hand over his face.

"There is something I have to tell you."

Lance slowly looked up at him.

"When we checked the insurgents' bodies we found something odd."

"What do you mean?"

"All four of them had no gunshot wounds, nothing to indicate how they had died."

A ghost of smile crossed Lance's face as past memories began to take hold and realization dawned. There was only one explanation, Merlin.

"Maybe it's divine intervention?"

Percy frowned.

"You don't believe in such?" Lance asked him.

Percy shook his head.

"You should start then because there is no other explanation for it."

* * *

Gwen somehow managed to compose herself. Arthur and Emmett, along with another soldier were being airlifted to Birmingham Hospital and she wanted to be on that plane.

She found the medical officer in charge and approached him.

"Please Sir I would like to be one of the medics that accompany the injured soldiers to Birmingham Hospital."

"Gwen," he sighed, "You are too emotionally invested."

She swallowed the lump in her throat and met his gaze head on.

"And here I won't be able to function at all," she stammered, "Please ... he's my best friend, like a brother. He needs me. He has no family, no one to care for him ... I'm begging you Sir."

He took a moment to consider it and then nodded.

"Okay."

Gwen's shoulders sagged with relief.

"You know his condition is critical."

She numbly nodded.

"Don't get your hopes up. Brace yourself for the worst Gwen."

* * *

Gwaine had heard the news. An IED bomb attack, Insurgents on hand, two men dead, several severely wounded.

All he could think was who? Who had lived, who had died and who was injured?

Were Emmett and Arthur alright?

They better be! They had to be!

Any minute now Emmett would walk into the cookhouse, a big wide grin on his face, and Arthur frowning as usual.

But it was Lance who first walked through the door and it didn't look good given his grim expression.

Gwaine slowly rose from the table, his appetite suddenly deserting him.

Lance continued walking towards him with that same grim, sad look on his face.

Don't say ... don't say it.

He didn't want to hear it.

Looking past Lance to the doorway and any moment now Emmett would walk through, bringing a certain sort of brightness into the room, as he always did.

But there was no Emmett.

He dragged his gaze back to Lance's face.

"He better not be dead," he muttered in a tight voice.

Lance shook his head.

"He's alive, last time I saw him, but badly injured, as was Arthur."

Gwaine's head was reeling. His two best friends injured ... "How bad?"

"Arthur regained some consciousness, his legs were hurt and M-M, Emmett ..." Lance's voice broke off there and dread gripped Gwaine's heart.

"Head injury, it looked bad."

Emotion made it difficult for Gwaine to speak. What was Lance saying ... it looked bad? Did that mean Emmett was going to die?

"I have to see him," he managed to get out through stiff lips.

"You can't."

Yes he could and no one was going to stop him!

"Gwaine as officer in charge of your platoon, your place is here. In two weeks time we have R&R and I have Gwen's number. She will know what is happening and keep us up to date."

Gwaine didn't want to hear it but Lance was right. As much as he hated the thought he had to stay. He wouldn't be allowed to leave as it was.

"Bloody Arthur," he muttered, raking a hand through his hair.

He better be alright and Emmett damn well better not die. Life would be so much duller without him. He sat down heavily on the bench and buried his face in his hands.

* * *

Arthur was vaguely aware of the pain in his legs, the hum of what sounded like an airplane. Something terrible had happened, something he couldn't face. Where was he? The last thing he remembered was Merlin holding him, _Merlin had magic_. It didn't matter. Because he now knew ... that everything Merlin had done had been for him, for Camelot, for the future of Albion.

If he could have changed anything, just one thing ... it would be that he'd appreciated Merlin for the special young man that he was. Merlin, who brought a needed sense of reality to his world, making it more alive and interesting. So many regrets and now there would be no time left for him.

He fought to hold on ... hold on ... must tell Merlin. He couldn't leave without him knowing how much he meant to him.

'_Thankyou' _was the only word he had, could utter as the light faded before his eyes.

Time became meaningless. He was there in Camelot, Merlin holding him in his arms, but now he was here, with the same man, holding him. Merlin, a lifeline between two very different worlds, past and present, a friendship enduring. Some things hadn't changed and yet everything had.

Merlin ... where was Merlin? He had to find him. He would find him. He couldn't lose him, not again.

* * *

Gwen stared down at Arthur. He was mumbling again, his eyelashes fluttering against his pale cheeks. She couldn't make sense of what he was saying except for just one word.

"Merlin," she whispered.

There was a strange throbbing in her heart.

It wasn't the first time Arthur had mentioned him either.

'_I'm fighting battles with a sword, quite often Gwaine is with me and a gangly young man that looks like Emmett.'_

'_In the dream I don't call him Emmett, I call him Merlin.'_

Raising a hand Gwen touched the silent tear that trickled down her cheek.

'_Why are you crying?'_

'_I-I don't know. I can't explain it ... it's just a feeling."_

'_What sort of feeling?'_

'_Happy but also sad, like something was lost.'_

More tears formed in her eyes. She had cried so much that she was surprised she had any tears left to cry. Was Arthur dreaming of Merlin? Is that why he kept calling for him?

"Arthur," she breathed, stroking his face, "Who is Merlin?"

His eyes opened, much to her surprise, and she held her breath. She saw confusion and pain in the depths of his eyes.

"Arthur," she spoke again and his eyes met hers.

A slow warm smile crossed his face and raising a hand he lightly caressed her cheek.

"Guinevere," he murmured, "I missed you."

_Guinevere, Guinevere, _what? Chills ran down her spine. How ... how did he know her name? She hadn't told anyone, not even Emmett.

Arthur's eyes closed just as she was about to ask him. She was tempted to rouse him again but he needed to sleep and she dug her nails into the palms of her hands.

She took a deep steady breath. It was just a coincidence ... wasn't it? Arthur wasn't himself, heavily sedated. It could mean anything and probably nothing.

"Gwen," she heard Jane softly call, "He's trying to talk."

Gwen spun around and knelt down beside Emmett, hope flaring in her heart, but the words that Emmett muttered made no sense and the hope soon died.

"He's just saying gibberish," Gwen sighed. It wasn't a good sign, typical of patients with severe head injuries.

"No," Jane began, "He's not."

Gwen raised her eyes to Jane's.

"I studied several units at Uni, before I dropped out. I had to research the changes in the English language over a period of a thousand years."

She frowned.

"He's speaking an old English dialect," Jane continued.

Gwen's eyes dropped to Emmett's face. Since when did he know old English? Why was he speaking it now?

"What is he saying?"

Jane looked down at the Emmett, who was still softly murmuring words, words that made no sense to her, but words that were strangely familiar all the same. It left an odd feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"I'm not entirely sure but it sounds like a prayer of sorts ... cleanse the sickness, heal the flesh."

Gwen's eyes widened, the fine hairs standing up on her arms and the back of her neck. She shivered.

"What does he mean?"

Jane shook her head. "I don't know but Gwen, I don't think his brain is as damaged as what the doctors are saying."

Gwen rubbed her arms. "You mean there may be hope?"

Did she dare allow herself to hope? She gazed down at Emmett's pale face. Yes ... yes she could, would. She had to.

* * *

Morgana tossed and turned in her sleep.

_Barefoot, her night gown flowing around her, she walked through the bodies strewn out across the ground. A horrible deep dread clawed at her heart. What had she done ... what had she done? Tears streaked her cheeks. No, it wasn't her ... she hadn't done this ... no it was all wrong. It couldn't have been her. She would never kill so many people._

_She yanked her long dark hair out of her face._

_It was a war. Not a green England field. It was a desert waste land._

_She was at war. She was in Afghanistan ... and Arthur. Oh god Arthur. She wildly spun around. He was here. She knew he was here ... and he was hurt. She had to find him._

_Desperate, hurt, her mind muddled with confusion and finally she stumbled across Arthur._

_He was holding Emmett in his arms and they both looked so still, lifeless, dead._

_She had done this! Why had she done this?!_

'_No ...!' she screamed, 'No!'_

_A golden light burned the back of her eyes. Her whole body shook with anguish._

'_No!'_

A sudden bright piercing white light swamped her and Morgana woke with a fright.

Heart palpitating in her chest, her hair drenched with sweat, her breathing coming in sharp erratic breaths.

It was just a dream, she told herself, nothing more than a bad dream. Then why did she feel like it was a premonition? She ran her trembling hands over her face and a knock resounded on her dormitory door.

Scrambling out of bed, her legs feeling weak she answered the door.

Her platoon officer stood there looking grave and serious.

"I'm sorry but we have some bad news for you," he began and her heart hammered in her chest.

"Maybe you had better sit down," he continued.

A wave of nausea hit her and she tightly clutched the door knob till her knuckles grew white.

"No, please just tell me," she stammered and her voice shook.

"There was an IED bomb attack this afternoon, several soldiers were killed and your brother has been seriously wounded."

Morgana felt her face drain of all colour.

"He has been airlifted to the Birmingham Hospital along with other causalities."

Several soldiers killed ... Emmett?

"What of the medic?" she asked, trembling, "Emmett, what happened to him?"

But she already knew the answer to that. Hadn't she just dreamed it?

"I'm sorry, Morgana, but I think he was fatally injured."

The ground beneath her feet gave way and she found herself falling, falling into darkness and there was no one to catch her, no one to save her. There never had been.

* * *

It was after midnight by the time they finally reached Birmingham Hospital. Gwen was exhausted, both physically and emotionally.

Arthur and Emmett were taken straight through to intensive care. And she was left in the nurses' station, alone, unsure and worried. She leant against the door, arms folded, biting down on her lip.

She felt Jane touch her arm.

"There is nothing more we can do for them now," she spoke, "They are in good hands."

"I know," she sighed, but she didn't want to leave either of them.

Arthur would be okay, his vital signs were still good and no doubt his father would only get the top orthopaedic surgeon out there to operate on him, but what of Emmett?

"Come on," Jane continued, linking an arm through hers, "You and I need some serious sleep."

Sleep! How could she possibly sleep after everything that had happened?

"Special accommodation is set aside for the medical team when we have to fly into Birmingham, I'll take you there."

"Thank you," she managed to return with a faint smile.

She allowed herself to be led out of the office, just as Uther came striding down the corridor, looking tense and worried.

So he should be. She didn't feel sorry for him, only for Arthur for having such a father.

She was surprised by the sudden resentment she felt and swallowed.

The Matron approached him.

"Where is my son?" he demanded, in a voice that spoke of authority, but was also laced with fear and uncertainty, "I want to see him."

"Uther Pendragon," Jane muttered, "Arthur's father."

The one and only, Gwen bitterly mused.

"Hmm, what it must be like growing up that rich," Jane continued, "I bet he's spoilt, arrogant."

Gwen shook her heard. "No," she mumbled, "He's not like his father."

He was so much more than that, she knew deep down in her heart, but he was controlled by his father. She watched as the Matron led Uther away, obviously to see Arthur.

"I saw how much you care for him," Jane said, softly.

"We went out for a while."

"What happened?"

Gwen sighed sadly and glanced at Jane. "It would seem I'm not appropriate."

_Don't let anyone tell you what to do. You said you were your own man. You have a good heart. Be true to it._

A sudden wave of dizziness hit her and she reached out a hand to lean against the wall.

"Are you alright?" Jane quickly asked.

Gwen rubbed her forehead. What was that? A thought ... an image, words, words she had spoken before?

"I-I'm fine, just tired."

"Let's get some sleep."

* * *

Arthur was aware of voices talking through the thick fog that swirled in his head. He tried to make sense of what was happening. Where was he? It was like trying to piece together a jigsaw puzzle of broken, scattered images.

"His leg?" one voice spoke, sounding sharp, urgent and worried.

It was his father. He would know that voice anywhere.

"I've done everything I can," came another voice, "The surgery went well but it is a very complicated fracture and he runs a high risk of infection."

Arthur knew that voice, from somewhere.

"And if that happens?" his father demanded.

"Then I'm afraid I'll have no option but to amputate the leg."

His leg ... what happened to his leg?

Then it all came back in a sudden flash, the bomb blast, Merlin running towards him, Merlin crawling on his hands and knees to reach him, Merlin performing magic and killing the insurgents and Merlin passing out.

A deep searing pain tore at his heart.

Where the hell was Merlin? He had to know. Was he alright?

"That won't happen!" his father exclaimed, "You won't let that happen."

"Uther I can only do so much."

Arthur forced his eyes open. Everything was blurry. He tried to speak but only managed to croak.

It was enough to grab the attention of the older man, who approached the bed.

"Arthur," he began, placing a hand on his shoulder, his face coming into focus.

Gaius? His eyes widened in disbelief as they wandered over the older man's face. It was Gaius. If anyone could save Merlin it would be him.

"M-M ..." he tried to speak but his throat was so dry, talking was difficult.

"Don't try to talk Arthur," Gaius instructed, "Your throat will be sore and dry, an after effect from the anaesthetic," he continued "You've just spent five hours in surgery."

He had to tell him. He had to help Merlin. Raising a hand he gripped his arm.

"M-Merlin," he gasped.

Gaius looked confused. Arthur swallowed, which just made his throat worse.

"Y-You have to remember," He managed to whisper, "Merlin."

Gaius' eyes widened in surprise and shock, Arthur took it as a positive sign. He fought off the dark fog that threatened to claim him once again.

"Find him Gaius ... please ... he was hurt," his throat burned so much but he had to persist.

"H-His name is Emmett."

Despite Arthur's effort to fight off the fog it rolled in. His eyes began to close. He felt Gaius' grip tighten on his shoulder, thought he heard him say 'I'll find him' before he sank into darkness.

* * *

**A/N: I hope you are still enjoying this story? Reviews are always like payment in gold! Please let me know what scenes you liked the most and/or what you would like to happen. I had one review that asked if Lance could be the next one to remember and I thought that was a really good idea. It also made sense as he was the only one, other than Gaius, that knew Merlin had magic. I also thought having Lance remember fitted in well with this chapter. As for the other characters I still haven't figured out exactly how and when they will remember so if you want to pass on any ideas I'm very happy to hear them.**

**I've already started the next chapter and I promise you won't have to wait so long for that one. Providing the writing mood continues to flow I'm hoping to have it uploaded sometime over the weekend.**


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: This chapter took longer than I thought it would to write. Time wasn't being kind to me either. As usual it's another long chapter. I just can't help myself! **

**Thank you so much for all the great reviews to date! I love reading them and they really do inspire me to continue with this story. I'm just so happy that people are getting into the story and obviously enjoying it! **

**Thanks also to Sonia for coming through and proof reading this for me with such short notice!**

**That said, enjoy!**

* * *

_**Chapter 16. I Need You**_

* * *

Some things had always been.

Merlin.

It didn't take Gaius long to find him now he had learned of his other name.

He had waited his whole life for this moment. The memories hadn't come back to him in one sudden dramatic moment, but rather over a gradual period of time as he aged. Once he had turned 30 he had known, remembered everything.

The boy with the blue sparkling eyes, eyes that turned gold with magic and who possessed the kindest heart, _Merlin._

It was 1977.

Where was Merlin now?

He had searched for years, not knowing if the boy was still alive, if he had survived the test of time?

Only that he had to have, he had to be somewhere ... out there ... alive.

He was immortal. Gaius remembered well the day both he and Merlin had come to that realization.

_Merlin was beside himself, 'I don't want to live forever!' pacing the small confines of the room, 'That's not a blessing Gaius, it's a curse!' he had raged._

'_I'm cursed to live forever because I screwed up, cursed to live and watch everyone I love and care about die ...'_

_Gaius had sat on his bed, watching the young man, the pain mixed with anger on his face, a face that had never aged despite the ten years passing since Arthur's death._

'_I don't want to be different anymore. I just want to be like everyone else.'_

_Merlin, zapping anything in his acute agitation that happened to get in his way, already enough of his vials lay broken on the ground._

_The last ten years had often been difficult. Merlin questioning his existence, destiny, life in general. But this, immortality, was the proverbial last straw for him._

_Gaius was an old man and he'd lived a long time, too long. His body was weary. He had only held on for as long as had because Merlin needed him. He still thought of him as a boy. He looked not much older than one, even though he was 38. His heart went out to him. It was a heavy burden to bear._

'_I'm sorry Merlin, I'm sorry this has happened to you, but there has to be a reason for it?'_

_Merlin stopped pacing and glared at him._

'_The dragon,' he snorted, 'I know what he said, Arthur, future king but how is that possible Gaius?'_

_Gaius looked at him patiently._

'_How are you possible?' he quietly said._

_The anger drained out of Merlin and his shoulders sagged, a deep sadness filled his eyes._

'_I wish I wasn't,' he sighed, sinking slowly onto a nearby stool._

'_Everything has a reason Merlin,' Gaius murmured, 'The future is never certain, never set and if Kilgharrah says Arthur will return then you must believe him.'_

_Merlin's eyes were fixed on the small fire burning in the grate._

'_How long though, how long do I wait Gaius?'_

_Gaius dragged his body off the bed and limped over to Merlin, resting a hand on the boy's shoulder._

'_However long it takes.'_

One thousand and two hundred years was a long time to wait.

He had feared for Merlin's sanity because that would have been enough to drive any man to the brink of it.

He only had to wait 35 years and that had been bad enough.

The call tonight, a desperate Uther, a voice he hadn't expected to hear again begging him to operate on his son Arthur.

Gaius had been shocked to say the least. Even more so when the young man had remembered when clearly Uther hadn't.

How could that be? How had Arthur remembered Merlin?

Of course, he found out they were in the Army, at the same time, together, just as fate had always intended.

But any joy Gaius might have felt at this news and Merlin being back was short lived.

Merlin was in a very grave condition.

The young man lay on the bed, so still and pale, but looking just as Gaius remembered. It brought tears to his eyes to see him again and bitter sweet was the moment as he lay there in that coma.

He touched Merlin's shoulder, giving it a light squeeze.

"My boy," he mumbled, tears spilling from his eyes, "It's been a long time."

He brushed a hand against his eyes to stop the tears.

"You have to pull through Merlin," he continued, "This isn't the end ... it's only just the beginning."

* * *

Gwen had slept better than she thought she would, but that was probably because of the sheer exhaustion she felt and the sedative Jane had given her.

Her head felt groggy the next morning. It took several minutes to get her bearings, the deep aching in her chest suddenly reminding her of the previous night's events. Pulling the pillow over her head she silently, pitifully moaned.

How had this happened? Why had this happened? It wasn't fair. But she had to get it together. Today, after all, was a new day as her mother would say. God she missed her, even more so in that moment and now wasn't the time to think of her. It would only bring more tears and she was so sick of crying.

Then her thoughts drifted to Elyan. He was based only an hour's drive from here and a sudden longing to see him overwhelmed her. She could send him a text.

Dragging her tired body out of bed and pushing her tousled wild curls out of her face she searched for her phone, finding it on the bedside table. Looking down at the time she was shocked by how late it was.

"Ten in the morning!" she gasped.

Why had Jane let her sleep in so late? And where was she? What about Emmett? She had to see him! What if had taken a turn for the worst? What if he had died? It didn't bear thinking about.

Be positive, she silently chided.

What if he were better? That could be possible too. But she couldn't allow herself to hope. Life was a precarious thing and she was only just holding onto her own sanity with all that had happened in the last 24 hours.

She quickly sent a text message to Elyan.

_I'm at Birmingham Hospital, I'm okay but Emmett isn't, please see me when you can, I need you._

She glanced down at the hospital night gown Jane had found for her. Damn, but she had no clothes except the ones she was wearing yesterday.

Picking up her phone again she sent another text to Elyan. _Can you stop by the house and get me some clothes, clean underwear, tops, trousers, anything you can find, oh and some PJ's._

Knowing Elyan it could end up being anything and probably something totally unpractical. Sighing she placed the phone back on the bedside table and ran both hands through her hair. Somehow or another she had to find a way to stay here. The thought of having to fly back to Camp Bastion was far from appealing. She wasn't above begging if need be.

She only had two weeks till her R&R, surely she could think up something?

Grabbing her previous night clothes from the end of the bed she took in her surroundings. It was a modest room, containing four single beds, with bedside tables. There was a single wardrobe and an attached bathroom and toilet. She desperately needed a shower to feel human again. What was ten more minutes?

Gwen had a quick shower, dried herself with a complimentary towel hanging over the rail before getting dressed. Brief images of last night's dream drifted through her mind. She was with Arthur. Or rather, Arthur was in her dream. He had called her Guinevere, just like on the plane last night. She was sad about something, so was he. Well their relationship was sort of doomed before it had even begun.

In the dream she had felt such an intense longing to see him and dread. Would he still hate her? Would he ever be able to bring himself to look at her again? She was so afraid of what she might see in his eyes, anger, reproach, hate? And why, what had she ever done to him? If anything it should be the other way around. He was the one to dump her because his father had deemed her inappropriate.

And there was that word again _inappropriate._ It niggled away at some half forgotten memory.

Shaking her head Gwen peered at her tired reflection and quickly brushed her shoulder length curls, tying them back into a pony tail. She was desperate to see Emmett, desperate to see Arthur, too, not that she wanted to admit it.

Funny but in the dream she could swear her hair was longer, a lot longer. She couldn't ever remember having hair that long in her life. It was odd.

_It's just a dream_, she inwardly murmured. It meant nothing.

* * *

Gwen sat by Emmett's bed, clutching his still hand in hers, willing his fingers to squeeze hers. Anything to let her know he was here, that he would be alright.

She fixed her eyes on his face. He still looked so pale. She had known that his skull was fractured, that he had gone into surgery to repair it. Right now his hair resembled a patchwork quilt. Stents were put in to relieve the swelling in his brain. A four inch wound that had now been stitched marred the left side of his head.

It looked as grim as what the doctors had predicted. She took a deep breath and continued to hold his unmoving hand in hers.

"I can't lose you," she sighed, her heart aching so heavily in her chest that it physically hurt. "You are not going to die."

Taking a deep unsteady breath she choked back a sob.

"Damn it Emmett I won't let you."

If only he blinked, just once, just to indicate he could hear her. But his eyelashes remained still and dark against the pallor of his skin.

"I need you, Arthur needs you," she implored, "We all need you."

She gripped his hand tightly, tears filled her eyes.

"You have to realize how important you are, it's like you brought me to life. You added something more to what I was and all those years and I've only known you for a short time, but Emmett it feels like forever. It feels as if you have always been with me and always will be till the day I die and I know that makes no sense, but losing you isn't even thinkable."

She took a deep shuddering breath.

"It can't happen, it just isn't supposed to be this way ... Emmett, you know ... I think you've always known that we would meet because there are times when I watch you and I see something in the depths of your eyes and it's like you know something the rest of us don't."

Still he did not move and Gwen buried her face in her hands. Right now her life sucked in the most horrible of ways. What did she do? What could she say to bring him back?

"How is he holding up?" A male voice spoke and Gwen looked up startled.

An older man stood there, looking every bit the professional in his white coat, glasses perched on the end of his nose.

"I-I don't know," she stammered and who was he?

His kind eyes rested on her face and a strange prickly sensation tingled down her spine.

"Gwen isn't it?"

How did he know? She hastily wiped her eyes.

"Um ... yes."

He smiled. "Of course you are."

She blinked, confused. Why was he here and who was he and why did she have this nagging feeling like she had seen him somewhere before?

"The young man, Arthur, was asking about him," he offered in way of explanation, as if reading her thoughts. "I said I would check up on the young medic for him."

"Arthur's awake?"

"He was, briefly, overly concerned about his friend."

Gwen bit down on her lip, poor Arthur, not knowing what was going on, worrying.

"I believe that when he next wakes up that he'll need someone he knows by his side," the man continued.

She shivered. There was a certain kind of knowing look in his eye. Was he referring to her, to be by Arthur's side? It was all the prompting she needed.

* * *

Gwen went directly to see Arthur after the strange man's words, making sure Uther was nowhere in sight before doing so.

He was fast asleep, looking almost as pale as Emmett. He had also been through the wars and he had a long road to recovery ahead of him. For now he was blissfully unaware of it. It wouldn't remain so.

Her eyes rested on his right leg, slightly elevated and it was grossly swollen. External fixation of the fracture site obviously being the only option given the soft tissue wounds and it wasn't a pretty sight. If sepsis set in it would be the loss of his leg.

Life was doubly cruel at present, her best friend in a coma with a serious head injury and the man she loved, though not wanting to, was about to face an incredibly difficult time in his life. Dealing with his own injuries was one thing but how would he react to finding out about Emmett's state on top of that? Arthur was just as attached to him.

She dropped down in the chair beside his bed, her eyes resting on his face. Taking guilty pleasure in watching him unobserved for a change. The curve of his lips, the two day stubble on his chin, the way his eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks. She longed to touch him but kept her hands curled up, clasped together, not understanding her need for him, why she loved him so.

Last night's dream flashed before her eyes. Arthur, much like now, lying in bed, injured. He woke slowly, his eyes resting on her and the hate she had expected to see there wasn't. And such the relief she felt. He sat up, gingerly, her arms went around him. He buried his face in her hair.

Gwen's nails dug into the palms of her hands. Dream on girl, she dryly chided. As if that were ever likely to happen which is why it was nothing more than a dream.

* * *

Arthur was drifting in and out of sleep. The medication made him drowsy and it was difficult to make sense of the many questions and images rambling through his head.

One moment he was King Arthur.

Then he was just Arthur. Not a king, not anyone of importance. What did that mean? What did any of this mean?

And where was Merlin? He missed him. Merlin was always by his side so why wasn't he here?

The memories would return, hitting him hard, making his heart twist painfully, gut wrenchingly so and his breath would catch in his throat.

Everything hurt and his whole body ached but not as much as his heart. It wasn't fair. He wanted Merlin. He needed him and someone had to know something about him.

If he could just force his eyes open but that seemed a monumental effort. He tried moving, a fiery pain raced through his leg.

Okay, best not to move.

He'd forgotten about the leg, _it is a complicated fracture,_ he remembered the words _he runs a high risk of infection._

He remembered the older man_._

Gaius was here.

"Gaius," he murmured, _you have to remember Merlin, find him_

But did he remember? Had he found Merlin? Gaius could help Merlin. He would be the only person to do so and he needed to open his eyes.

"Shh Arthur, it's okay," he heard a soft voice murmur and felt fingers lightly caress his hair.

Guinevere? No just Gwen now. She had changed her name by Deed Poll! Why would she, how could she and ... she didn't remember either. No one did, just Merlin. Now him.

Merlin had seen her die, his face full of sorrow _everybody died Arthur_. Had he seen everyone he loved die whilst he still went on living? _I waited over a thousand years for you Arthur ... such a long time ... I lived for so long in hope, just waiting. _ Had Merlin lived all of that time? Just the thought of that was too awful to comprehend. He couldn't imagine it. He didn't want to.

And how had Gwen died? But what did it matter now, he inwardly muttered? Only that it did.

Her fingers continued to stroke his hair and it felt soothing. He wanted to look at her. He wanted to see her with his own eyes once more.

He forced his eyes open, squinting against the sudden brightness.

"Arthur?" she spoke, her voice sounding sad, desperate.

Her blurred shape came into view and she smiled in that sweet way of hers, causing his heart to hammer in his chest. She was such a sight for sore eyes. He was bombarded with a dozen emotions both old and new. She was his wife, now they were estranged. But she wasn't his wife in this lifetime. She wasn't even Guinevere. She was just Gwen.

Raising a hand he touched her face. It was only just the other week since he last saw her but it also felt like years. Did she remember?

His eyes searched her face for any sign of recognition. It was hard to tell. But the way she shied away from his touch was all the confirmation he needed. She didn't remember and he bit back the sudden disappointment.

They had both lived over a thousand years ago and she was his wife and she didn't remember a single damn thing. And Merlin was hurt and she didn't remember him either and how was he? Sudden concern over riding any other thought.

Gwen would know.

"Emmett?"

Her face was a dead giveaway, as always, and his stomach rolled.

"You need some water," she hastily returned and reached for a glass from the bedside locker.

It wasn't good, damn, no. He had to know either way.

"Just give it to me straight ... please ... Gwen."

She sighed and shook her head, her eyes filling with tears.

"H-He's in a critical condition."

Arthur's heart beat heavily in his chest. It took a moment for it to sink in. He wanted to deny it. She was lying. Merlin had always been. Merlin didn't die and he wouldn't die now. Not when he had just found him again, not when he hadn't even had a chance to make it up to him.

"I failed you ... I-I couldn't protect him," his voice wavered as tears filled his eyes. "The stupid kid was trying to protect me ..." his voice broke off there as emotion got the better of him.

He screwed his eyes shut. Damn you Merlin. Don't you ever think of yourself!

"He's still fighting Arthur, not all is lost yet."

He wanted to cling to her words, hold her in his arms till the pain subsided but she didn't remember ... anything. And how he wished she remembered, more so than ever. He felt so alone.

"Oh Arthur," she whispered, sounding as miserable as he felt. "I'm so sorry."

Sorry! She had nothing to be sorry about.

He attempted to compose himself and opened his eyes, searching her face.

"W-What happened to him?"

"Head injury."

Merlin was conscious; he used magic to kill the insurgents. He saw it with his own eyes, he saw the determination on his pale, blood soaked face and that's when his memories had returned, _I know now, I remember you_.

'_Then you know I've always been with you.'_

"He's in a coma," she continued in a sad voice.

Arthur remembered the way his body had began to shudder, how he had lain still as the air itself, unmoving, unflinching. How desperately alone he felt, the gut wrenching agony of that moment.

"I-I want to see him."

She shook her head. "You're only five hours out of surgery Arthur, there is no way you can be moved yet."

She didn't get it, she didn't understand how he needed to ... had to ... Merlin wasn't going to die. He couldn't die, not after everything they had been through together.

But she was right. He was bloody useless like this and he wouldn't be going anywhere yet. He was stuck in this bed and all because of his stupid legs.

"How bad are they?" he muttered, glancing down the length of the bed but he couldn't really see anything.

He knew his right lower leg was fractured, heard Gaius talking to his father about it it was just broken, how bad could that be?

Gwen still hadn't answered his question and he glanced at her.

"Gwen?"

"I was in theater when they brought you in," she slowly replied.

Great so she saw everything, the state of his legs. And she would be the best person to ask then.

"I've seen worse," she continued but he could tell by her expression it was still bad enough.

"You are a terrible liar," he muttered.

She shook her head and gave him a direct look.

"No it's true Arthur, I've seen legs blown off and at least you still have yours."

His throat felt dry, tears threatened but he wasn't about to cry, again, in front of her.

"I still could," he began, "Lose my right leg."

It wasn't something he'd really thought about, up until this point he hadn't thought about his own injuries at all. His concern and worry had been taken up by thoughts of Merlin. Only to discover that Merlin was hanging on by a mere thread and could possibly die. And that thought alone was enough to make him feel incredibly vulnerable.

"Only if infection sets in," Gwen softly replied.

He blinked the tears away.

"Arthur," she murmured, her voice laced with sympathy.

Her hand slipped into his and she lightly squeezed his fingers.

He took a deep breath.

"I'm not crying for myself ... Gwen, I'll survive either way ..." his voice broke off there.

"I-I can't be without him."

"I know, I know what you mean," she whispered, "The last 24 hours, feel like I've been stuck in some horrible nightmare I can't escape."

His eyes rested on her face, the dark rings under her eyes. She did look like she had been through the emotional ringer. She might not remember anything but she was still Gwen, still essentially the same woman and he had still loved her even before remembering. That hadn't changed. There never would be anyone else for him _I've never loved another. _ He longed to hold her but knowing he couldn't. She didn't remember and as far as she was concerned she wouldn't be, _trusting her heart to him again._

"You should be with him, with M ... Emmett," he stammered, wanting suddenly to be alone.

If he was going to be having an emotional breakdown then he didn't want to do it in front of her.

"He needs you more than I do."

The words had come out blunter than he had intended and he saw the hurt flash in her eyes.

"I'm sorry," he hastily added, "I didn't mean it that way."

She rose from the chair, averted her eyes from his and dammit. Things were so fragile between them, _again,_ and he had no idea on how to change that. Not that he was in a place to do so. Everything was just one gigantic mess. Merlin was in a coma, he was bed ridden for the meantime, a bloody invalid and she didn't remember.

"I have to report to the Matron," Gwen spoke stiffly, "Try to convince her to let me stay."

Of course, she had to stay! Emmett needed her. Hell he needed her.

"I'm sure they will."

She nodded, managed a weak smile before turning to leave.

"Gwen," he called.

She stopped and turned. He swallowed the lump in his throat.

"When you see Emmett call him Merlin."

A puzzled frown dented her forehead.

"You kept calling for Merlin on the plane."

He did?

"Why?" she asked, curiously.

How could he explain? But just maybe if she called him Merlin she might start to remember and he knew from experience that Merlin would only respond to his real name.

"Because ... he is Merlin."

She bit down on her lip.

"Trust me Gwen," he sighed, "Just this one time."

She nodded and left his room.

* * *

_Because he is Merlin ... _what did Arthur mean by that? Did Emmett have another name and why? Why that name of all names? But she didn't have much time to ponder it when she ran into Morgana halfway down the corridor.

"Gwen?" she began, her voice small and scared, sudden relief crossing her face, "Gwen!"

Gwen fell into her waiting arms. The two girls clung to each other tightly.

"I've been worried sick," Morgana's voice shook. "All those hours on the plane and not knowing if Arthur and Emmett would be okay and Gwen," she continued, pulling back.

"They said Emmett was fatally wounded."

Gwen's eyes met with hers and she swallowed.

"N-Not fatal but critical," she stammered.

Morgana brought a trembling hand up to her mouth.

"Please tell me he isn't going to die?"

She wanted to reassure the girl, wanted to believe he wouldn't, but it had looked so grim this morning.

"I-I ... he's still holding on."

Morgana's shoulders slumped. She looked as dejected as Gwen felt.

"Can I see him?"

"I'm sorry Morgana but he's in intensive care and only direct family can see him."

Which included her as she was really the only family he had, even though she wasn't technically family.

"What about Arthur?"

Arthur had looked so broken and pale. He was struggling with the news of Emmett as well. How could just one young man affect their lives so? _Merlin_ ...and the name swirled through her head, _Merlin, Merlin. _There was something about that name?

"He's doing okay," she told her, least there was that, "I'm sure he would love to see ..." her voice broke off there when Uther came into view.

"Morgana," he called, catching sight of her, "Why didn't you call? I would have picked you up."

Morgana stiffened, wiping her eyes.

"I-I couldn't wait."

Gwen saw the tender way Uther looked at Morgana as he approached, before pulling her into his arms.

"Thank god you're here," he breathed in her hair, "Thank god."

Gwen had never seen him so emotional, so upset, and made a hasty retreat. The last thing anyone needed was for Uther to see her and start demanding why she was here and causing problems that didn't need to be caused. Heart beating rapidly, she walked to the Matron's office prepared to beg to stay, whatever it took.

It was easier than she thought it would be. The Matron agreed that her being here with Emmett would be the best thing for his recovery. She would spend the next two weeks working at the hospital till her R&R was due. Not only that, but the Matron gave her the next three days off.

The day brightened just a tad when she saw her brother Elyan. They hugged warmly. She clung to him, not wanting to let go.

He eventually disentangled himself from her arms and gazed at her concerned.

"Come on I'm taking you out for lunch. You look like you're about to pass out, when did you last eat?"

* * *

Arthur fell into a lethargic state of being when Gwen left. He was broken, both physically and emotionally, the pieces never fitting back together again. As if they ever could. He had never felt so useless. Stuck in that bed, with bung legs and how long would he be like this? A nurse entered the room.

"You're awake," she spoke, crossing the floor and smiling.

Did she have to be so damn cheery?

"How are you feeling?"

"Terrific," he muttered sarcastically.

She ignored his sarcasm.

"Much pain?"

"A bit but it's bearable," he returned.

She took his blood pressure and temperature. Then she put the back of his bed up higher, so he was sitting up.

She inspected his leg, now he could actually see it for himself. He frowned at the metallic contraption that circled his right lower leg.

"What is that?"

"External fixation," she replied, "To hold the bones in place."

For the first time, curiosity aroused, he inspected his legs. Not that he could see much as they were heavily bandaged.

"Why are they bandaged like that?"

"You don't know?"

He wouldn't be asking if he did and shook his head.

"You have second and third degree burns to both your legs."

She said it kindly, sympathetically, but he was still shocked. He had what? Burns ... to both his legs, third degree burns.

He shut his eyes, feeling suddenly nauseous ... shit. He fought back the tears. Gwen hadn't told him that. She probably didn't want to shock and upset him and their conversation had mostly been taken up with Merlin. Then he had more or less told her to leave. Now he wished she was back here again. He needed her.

"I will get you some soup," the nurse kindly offered, "You should be allowed to eat something light soon."

"I don't want anything to eat." He muttered.

He knew he sounded like a petulant child but he didn't care. How the hell could he possibly eat anything? Merlin could die and he was bloody useless.

The door opened and he turned his head hoping it would be Gwen but Morgana and his father came into his room. She took one look at him and flew straight into his arms. The moment was completely surreal. Flashes of memory, her hatred towards him, but when he looked into her face now all he could see was concern and worry for him, like it once had been and a knot formed in his throat. It had always saddened him how she had changed. Was something he had never really been able to get past. He hoped to god, in that moment, she would not ever remember.

His father was more emotional than he'd ever seen him but soon regained his composure.

"There is no reason as to why you won't make a full recovery," his father said and it sounded more like a declaration. More like a false hope, an order even, _you will make a full recovery._

"I don't care about myself," he muttered.

What was the point? He just wanted Merlin to be alright.

He noticed the sudden stricken look in Morgana's eyes. She still cared for him. This present life time with her, for a moment, blanking out the previous one. She didn't have magic. She didn't remember, probably just as well.

His father patted him on the shoulder.

"You're still in shock, Son."

"I wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for ... Emmett," he murmured and Morgana's eyes filled with tears.

She cared for Merlin too, more than she ever had done. Funny how that went? And why did she?

"He saved my life."

_Again_, Arthur bitterly mused.

'_You don't know how many times I've saved your life,'_ Merlin pushing him out of the way of the Dorocha.

'_Do you know how many times I've had to save your royal backside?'_

'_Are you really going to face this dragon with me?'_

Now he knew why.

He hadn't dealt the dragon a mortal blow. Somehow or another Merlin had used his magic on the dragon, saving his life, yet again.

'_Look what we've got?'_

'_What?'_

'_You and ... me.'_

'_Merlin, what exactly are you going to do?'_

'_I'm going to be at your side, like I always am, protecting you.'_

Merlin just didn't save his life countless time, but he was also his loyal friend, always encouraging, always supportive.

'_Don't listen to Tristan. He doesn't know you.'_

'_I trusted the wrong people.'_

'_They betrayed you. That wasn't your fault.'_

'_No. I was a fool. I misjudged everyone ... my Uncle ... Morgana. Every decision I've made has been wrong.'_

'_You are being too hard on yourself.'_

'_I should be more discerning, wise ... a statesman, a king. Tristan's right, there's nothing special about me. I'm just like everyone else.'_

'_You're not. You're a worthy king.'_

Every time Merlin was there, pushing him when he wanted to give up.

'_You have a duty to your father, to your people. You can't give up on them now.'_

'_You cannot defeat an immortal army.'_

'_We don't know until we try.'_

Arthur slowly, painfully began to realize that Merlin hadn't lied to him as much as he had lied to himself when it came to the loyal manservant.

'_You came back to look for me?'_

'_All right, it's true. I came back because you're the only friend I have and I couldn't bear to lose you.'_

'_Really?'_

'_Don't be stupid.'_

Arthur gritted his teeth, it hurt, but the memories still came, teasing him, taunting him with what he'd lost, what he'd taken for granted. And Merlin, so many times, had taken charge without him even being aware of it.

'_Go with Gwaine. See if you can find them.'_

'_I'm going with them.'_

'_No, you're not.'_

'_That's an order.'_

'_No, to hell with your orders. You're coming with me.'_

He ran a hand over his face. Merlin had been so strong, wise, the most loyal of all. And he had been a fool.

"Arthur what are you doing?" Morgana asked.

He glanced into her sad eyes.

"Torturing myself," he muttered.

* * *

He was glad when his father and Morgana left, wanting solitude. He refused to eat, refused any pain relief, welcoming the pain, it seemed fitting somehow. By nightfall the pain had become so intense that sweat broke out on his forehead.

The nurses were becoming overly worried, but he didn't care. He welcomed the darkness of his thoughts. Merlin wasn't here to snap him out of them now.

The hours dragged by. His misery increased.

"What is this I hear Arthur," Gaius spoke from the doorway, "Why are you refusing pain medication?"

It was such a sweet relief when Gaius walked into his room that he could almost have wept tears of joy. For a moment the darkness dissipated. Please remember ... he had to remember and one look in Gaius' face told him that he did.

"Merlin?" the only word to escape his lips, the only word that meant anything.

"You saw him?"

Gaius nodded. "Indeed I did." But judging by Gaius' expression it wasn't good.

The man sat down heavily in the chair by his bed, lost in thought, lines of worry etched in his face. Arthur's heart thumped loudly in his ears.

"You can't heal him?"

"I don't have magic now, no one does. Merlin is the last of his kind."

Merlin, having magic he didn't care about. It's Merlin his most trusted friend he wanted back.

"Will he die?" he forced the words through his lips.

Gaius shook his head and some hope, however faint, lifted his heart from the darkness that had consumed it for all of that day.

"Any other normal person yes but Merlin is unique Arthur."

Of course he was, he'd always known in part but never wanting to admit his need for him.

Too proud.

Too stubborn.

Too arrogant.

Pride always did go before a fall and he'd fallen spectacularly.

"He doesn't just perform magic. He is magic. He was born with it. I had never seen such a thing before."

Arthur let Gaius' words wash over him. They were comforting, like a healing balm and he found his curiosity increasing.

"Tell me about him Gaius, who he is, what he is?"

He wanted to know, had to know, anything to bring him peace of mind.

"I will, once you take your pain medication."

Arthur scowled at the wily old man. But Gaius wasn't one for having the wool pulled over his eyes.

"Okay," he muttered, truth was that he badly needed it.

Gaius instructed the nurse to give him the medication. She gave him a needle in the upper part of his thigh.

"Changed somewhat hasn't it," he muttered.

"Indeed it has," Gaius returned with an amused smile.

"This is going to make my head go all weird," Arthur continued to mutter.

The effects were pretty instant. He had that strange floating feeling. It felt good and he forced his eyes to focus on Gaius.

"Okay who is he Gaius, what is he?"

Gaius raised an eyebrow. "Human," he smiled.

Arthur frowned.

"With a special gift, a gift he's only ever used for good."

"Why was he born that way?"

"Funny you mention it because Merlin asked me the same thing when he first came to me, just after he ended up in that silly scrap with you."

Arthur remembered it, now with shame _'he might be an idiot, but he's a brave one.'_

"I was tending to the bruise on his back."

"I hurt him?"

"Nothing too bad and Merlin is a lot stronger than he looks."

Yes he was but it was hardly reassuring given the present circumstances.

"I had scolded him for using his magic for such trivial purposes and risk being exposed. Knowing your father, there would be no telling what he would do to the boy."

Arthur shuddered at the thought. His father had been wrong about so many things and nothing had changed there.

"Merlin had asked me one thing, '_you don't know why I was born like this_?'

Arthur stared at Gaius' wordlessly. So much he didn't know.

"He asked if he were a monster."

Arthur could see how much that had bothered Gaius. It bothered him too.

"There was that boy with the purest of hearts and the kindest of souls asking me if he were a monster. Of course he wasn't, how could he think such a thing?"

Because his father had made people believe that anyone with magic was a curse that had to be eradicated, the scourge of the earth. Merlin had to live his life in secrets and lies as a result. Arthur couldn't even begin to imagine what that must be like. And yet Merlin always remained optimistic, bright, cheerful, but there were times Arthur had seen a certain type of sadness in his eyes. It used to confound him. But to prod Merlin about it was a waste of time. He was particularly reticent in discussing his own feelings. Now he knew why?

"I can't be without him Gaius."

"Of course you can't, you are two sides of the same coin, without the other, the one cannot function."

Arthur frowned.

"Even though you didn't know that consciously Arthur, but in your heart you did. That is why you never stopped looking for him when he went missing, why you would save his life even in place of your own. Why you can't be without him because you are part of each other."

_Why are doing this? Why are you still behaving like a servant?_

_It's my destiny. As it has been since the day we met._

Tears pricked his eyes.

_I also do this because you're my friend and I don't want to lose you._

Gaius patted his hand.

"It is a precious thing Arthur."

Yes, he knew that now, always had, if only in part.

"But Gaius after my father had died, three years passed and yet he never told me."

"We are all creatures of habit are we not Arthur? Merlin's greatest fear is that you would think less of him and he couldn't bear that thought."

And he had at first _leave me,_ not wanting to believe that Merlin could lie to him all that time, that Merlin was a sorcerer_._

"Arthur I was the one that made him promise to keep his magic a secret, I feared for his life, he was too precious to loose and Arthur I was the one that told him not to tell you that Balinor was his father."

That was almost too much for Arthur to bear! Balinor, the last dragonlord, his father! No wonder Merlin was sobbing when Balinor had died and he had just prodded the young man, teased him and provoked him to talk because he couldn't bear the silence. He had said heartless words, _No man is worth your tears._

He shut his eyes and couldn't help resenting Gaius just a bit in that moment. If only he had known.

"Between me being over protective and his mother I don't think Merlin was sure of what to do and, or what not to say. He was often torn in two directions."

Arthur swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. There was another question he had to ask.

"He killed the insurgents with his magic, he was still conscious but after that he wasn't."

"I'm afraid using his magic whilst being so injured took its toll on him."

"What do you mean?" he snapped.

Gaius gave him a serious grave look.

"His body will heal itself Arthur. With time but for him to use his magic for any other purpose in such a weakened state would be detrimental to him."

He didn't know that magic worked in that way. With a sinking heart he realized just how little he had known, about _anything_.

"No more for now Arthur," Gaius spoke in a concerned voice, "You need your strength to recover and you need to rest. You are not out of the danger zone, far from it."

* * *

This is crazy, Gwen whispered to herself as she walked into Emmett's room. Arthur was clearly delusional.

Nothing had appeared to have changed. Emmett lay there looking as pale as a ghost. Her eyes fell on his chest. It was moving, ever so slightly but without that movement he looked dead already.

She sat down on the chair by his bed, heart heavy, and took his hand in hers. She continued to watch him sadly as several minutes passed by.

"Something has to give," she murmured, more to herself than him.

She was desperate.

Leaning in closer towards him till her face was only inches from his, her hand still holding his, she spoke.

"It's me Gwen."

Nothing, no response.

"Arthur said something to me this morning, something ... I don't know but I'm so desperate that I'll do anything."

She took a deep breath.

"Merlin, I need you Merlin, you have to come back to me, to us ... Merlin."

His eyelashes fluttered and Gwen froze. What the ... maybe it was a trick of the light?

"Merlin, if you can hear me squeeze my fingers."

She waited with baited breath and every so lightly his fingers curled around hers.

Tears flooded her eyes along with hope. Bringing his hand up to her lips she kissed his fingers.

It was a sign. He was still here. He hadn't left yet. He was fighting. He would find a way back.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you for reading. I hope it is still in keeping with this story. Things still seem sort of grim but it won't always be that way. I have to admit that I really loved writing Gaius into the story! **

**Please leave a review. Let me know what you liked, what you would like to see. As always they make my day.**


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: Sorry but another really, really long chapter! I always have an idea in my head on how I want the chapter to end, just that sometimes getting to the end of that chapter often takes a lot longer than I ever anticipated. Still, these things can't be rushed, a story is not just told but also lived.**

**Thanks for all the wonderful reviews to date and thanks also to guest reviews that I can't reply to but I do want to say there was one particular guest review that very much made my day with their amazing and encouraging words!**

**Sorry this has taken longer than I thought it would to update. There are times throughout the school year, being a teacher, that my workload is seriously intense and crazy!**

**That said, enjoy!**

* * *

_**Chapter 17. **_

* * *

Gwen practically ran to Arthur's room. It worked, he was right ... how did he know?

_Because he is Merlin, _did Emmett tell Arthur something he hadn't told her? And did she call him Merlin from here on out? Did he change his name by Deed Poll as well?

Then there was the other matter of Arthur knowing her real name. How was that possible?

_I dream of him ... I call him Merlin. _

She stopped at his doorway. Did that mean he called her Guinevere in those dreams? Why would he dream of them? And most importantly why would he dream of them, knowing their other names but yet not knowing? Because how could he? Gwen rubbed her arms, a sudden chill taking hold. It didn't make sense.

She quietly stepped into his room and walked over to his bed, gazing down at him. But then nothing had made sense when it came to Arthur. Her feelings for him, given she really knew very little about him, and yet she felt as if she had always known him at some point in time, intimately too.

How peeved he used to get because he couldn't grow a proper full beard.

Her thumb lightly brushed against the spot on his cheek where there was no stubble. It's not possible for her to know this because she was pretty sure he had never told her.

How grumpy he was in the mornings, she would tease him about his snoring, but yet she had never slept with him.

How he liked it when she stroked his hair after he'd had a frustrating day. When he was irritable she knew how to calm him ... but she didn't know. She couldn't know those things?

They had only ever gone out five times and five times wasn't long enough to know such simple, but intimate things about a person, was it? Only it was instinctive, as if on some level she did know.

Gwen rubbed her arms again. There was something more. It hovered like a dark cloud on the periphery of her mind. She wasn't going to explore it. Whatever that dark cloud was, there was a lot of grief, too much pain attached to it. It was a place she didn't want to go to. A place she was terrified of.

Now you are being ridiculous girl, she inwardly chided. The dark cloud was her mother dying, as was the grief from that time. It had, in part, always stayed with her. It had nothing to do with Arthur.

Her fingers strayed to his cheek again. He looked more peaceful than he had this morning. She longed to tell him about Emmett or was that Merlin? But he was fast asleep, it was late, he needed the rest. She doubted she could wake him as it were, the pain relief he received, morphine, would knock him out for hours.

The next couple of weeks were going to be hell for him. She had seen it enough times. Patient's coming to terms with their injuries, the sudden loss of independence being the most difficult thing for them to deal with. The frustration of being bed ridden, then even when mobile, still restricted in their movements, what they once could do no longer being an option. Some patients suffered anxiety, some anger and others depression. Almost like the seven stages of grief. Denial, anger, pain and guilt, depression mixed with the loneliness and reflection before the upward turn took place. He would get better but it would take time.

Gwen knew all about grief. Her mother's death when she was 12 had had a profound effect on her life. Her mother had been everything to her. For so long she was angry, many months, and then there was the depression. For a good year she had barely left the house. She went from being an A grade student to failing. Her life had seemed to lack motivation.

By the time she turned 15 her grief began its upward turn. She was able to make decisions, think logically. Work again at improving her dismal grades but she never did get back the same motivation she once had. Maybe going through puberty at the same time had something to do with it?

Her father dying just as she turned 18, meant giving up studying at university and finding a job to pay the bills. She had Elyan to look after. He was only 15. She had to be strong. There was no time for grieving. So strong she did become, working long days to make ends meet. There was no time to even consider studying, barely any time for a social life, not that she had felt like socializing She became so isolated and when Elyan joined the Army at 18, when she was 21, the house had been empty and quiet. She had never felt so alone.

There was only one option for her now. To get back a life and joining the Army seemed the best way to do just that.

Then Emmett entered her world and she suddenly felt alive again. If he died, what would she do? How could she cope with more loss, more grief? It would be the final straw. She would fall in the deepest darkest abyss and never resurface.

It frightened her, to be that close to someone because getting attached also meant, one day, suffering loss again.

She drew in a deep breath and turned her thoughts away from such morbid thinking. Emmett would recover. He had to.

Arthur would live, even if they could never be together.

_You don't know that._

_I am as sure of that as you are._

_Things may change._

_Well, until they do ... my lord._

Gwen shivered. She was sleep deprived, that's all this was. They were just random words in her head.

What she had to tell Arthur in regards to Emmett would have to wait till morning.

Sighing, she pulled the blanket over his chest. She checked his IV, out of habit before gazing down at him for one long, last, silent moment. Strange this tenderness she felt for him. Her fingers stroked his hair at the peak of his forehead. Leaning over him, she replaced her fingers with her lips, kissing him lightly and softly.

She straightened up, tore her gaze away from him and willed her legs to move. Tomorrow was a new day. Maybe things would be better. They had to be.

* * *

It was bad.

It hurt.

He gritted his teeth as the nurse removed the dressings from his legs.

He had suffered plenty of injuries in the other lifetime just not one like this, as bad as this. Okay well he had been stabbed and died as a result, but that had been more of a numbing pain.

His body wasn't used pain anymore. It was like having to adapt to it all over again.

That life, this life, often getting muddled up in his head along with who he was, who he now wasn't.

He'd killed lots of people then and no one now. He didn't have to worry about bandits attacking him if he went for a walk in the forest. The only thing he had to worry about was coming up with legitimate reasons to get out of attending father's boring tedious board meetings. There had been a lot more action in his previous life, this life had been relatively quiet and boring, until he joined the Army.

Great thinking he dryly mused, now he was stuck in some bed injured, but he wouldn't change a thing. Being in the Army gave his life reason. He had felt like he was doing something constructive, doing what he always liked to do, taking charge, fighting for a cause, being part of a wider scheme of life.

Of course now he was just stuck in bed with too much time to think, and a million questions he wanted to ask Merlin, who still happened to be in a coma.

Gaius had given him some hope last night, but how long till the young man came out of the coma and would he be okay once he did? He had a serious head injury and these things were always difficult to determine along with how it would affect him physically and mentally. But it was Merlin, he was different, he was unique, as Gaius had put it and his body would heal itself with time. Yeah but how much bloody time would that be? He couldn't allow himself to have too much hope till he saw Merlin with his own eyes, alive and well. Merlin as he remembered him, with his silly grin and wide sparkling eyes, often a hint of amusement in them. Merlin making some comment bound to frustrate him. Merlin, uncannily wise, Merlin the most loyal person he had ever known.

It was frustrating because he couldn't get out of bed to see him and he so desperately wanted to see him. He would order him to wake up, as his now commanding officer and past king! Merlin would listen to him. He had to because Arthur sorely missed him.

The doctors were standing there, discussing his legs as if he wasn't even there. Something about skin grafts being needed and he was lying flat on his back unable to see anything.

He felt a sudden morbid curiosity to see the state of his legs now they were no longer bandaged and he tried sitting up, which was easier said than done.

"Can you put up the back of the bed?" he asked the nurse, "I want to see."

"Are you sure you really want to look at them?" the nurse asked.

Hell he was sure, he damn well wouldn't have asked if he didn't. He nodded in frustration and the nurse put up the back of his bed. He now had a good view of his legs and the damage that was done to them.

"It's not a pretty sight at this stage but it won't always be like that," she continued kindly.

Not a pretty sight was an understatement. His right lower leg was a mess, nearly swollen to twice its normal size. Pins from the external contraption sticking into his bones to hold them in place, the metal rods ran down either side of his leg, a pin screwing through the base of his foot through to the other side, another pin at the front of his foot. But the worst was seeing the soft tissue damage, the point at which the broken bone had penetrated through his skin, left a gaping wound and the burns went from above his knee down to his ankle, a myriad of unsightly colours of red, yellow with black patches determining the severity of whether they fell into the classification of second or third degree burns. His foot remained unmarred and intact. The thick boots he wore protecting them.

His left leg was a lot more pleasant to look at. No fractures, but numerous, wound marks from flying pieces of shrapnel. The burns were less extensive but there was a particularly bad one that ran down the right side of his left leg.

He viewed them objectively, like they were someone else's legs and not his own. Because to acknowledge that his own legs were in this state was something he didn't want to comprehend.

He was sorry he'd even decided to look now.

He was tough, least back before, but the person he was now with newer memories of this lifetime wasn't. It was the 21st Century for god's sake. He'd lived a life of leisure. He no longer spent hours a day doing battle training with swords and maces, fighting wars. Sure he'd spent the last five months at Camp Bastion and had become physically tougher, but it wasn't the same and mentally?

He glanced down at his legs again, his stomach twisting into knots. He had only one question to ask.

"How long till its better?"

The two doctors looked at him suddenly, as if just realizing he was there. About time, he was a person, not just some slab of meat on a table.

One was a burn specialist, the other an orthopedic specialist, least that's how they introduced themselves. They may have given names, Arthur couldn't remember, too taken up by the sight of his legs.

"An open comminuted grade III fracture of both the tibia and fibula with extensive soft tissue damage is always touch and go and too early to determine at this stage," the orthopedic specialist spoke, "You were luckily to have no major vessel damage but there is some nerve damage and third degree burns to most of the leg from the knee down."

"An estimation then?" He needed some kind of answer without all the medical jargon.

"If all goes well you should have full consolidation anywhere from eight months onwards."

"Full consolidation?"

What did that mean?

"Weight bearing, basically you can't put any weight on that leg for eight months."

It was the eight months that got to him. Eight bloody months! He wouldn't be able to walk for eight months! And that was providing everything went well, what if it didn't? But that didn't even bear thinking about.

He was used to being physically active, hated sitting around. What the hell did he do for eight months?!

"Providing the skin grafts take and go well you should be able to start getting around on crutches in four weeks."

Oh well that was something, he inwardly muttered. Terrific, stuck in bed for four weeks.

"We need to do the skin grafts as soon as possible," the burns specialist spoke.

He went on to point out what parts of his leg needed a skin graft, but Arthur was only half listening. His head was still reeling, _eight months._

"We can take healthy skin from either your back or abdomen unless you have someone else who could be the donor?"

He didn't answer. His head was elsewhere, anywhere but here.

"Arthur?" the specialist persisted.

He glanced up. What?

"Is there someone who can donate skin for you?"

"I'll do it," spoke a female voice from the doorway.

Morgana stood there and Arthur suddenly broke out of his trance.

"What?" he began.

She walked over to the bed.

"I can be the donor."

She would do that for him?

"No," he continued, having found his voice, "You don't need to do that."

"Don't be so proud," she admonished but not in an unkind way.

She glanced at the two doctors.

"I'm his half sister and I'm happy to do it."

"It'll leave a scar," Arthur added.

"The scarring is minimal," the burn specialist spoke up, "and we take the skin from an area of the body that is rarely seen."

Why was Morgana offering to do this? He can't let her do it besides being touched by her generosity.

"They can take skin from my back," he continued to persist "You don't have to do this Morgana."

She gave him a patient look.

"You want more scars than you're already going to have?"

Then her eyes wandered to his legs.

Don't look at them he was about to say, bit too late now.

Her face went pale, her eyes widened in shock.

"Shit Arthur," she murmured.

Yep, that pretty much summed it up. She managed to regain her composure quickly. Her lips tightened and her rock steady gaze didn't waver from his.

"I'm not taking no for answer, I will be the donor whether you like it or not."

He knew that look, knew how stubborn she was. Previous life time all she wanted was him dead and now she was offering to be a skin donor for him. He felt like laughing hysterically but it came out more like a half sob. It was all so damn confusing.

He needed Merlin here. Merlin was the only one who had all of the answers that could explain why this was happening, why they were all living again.

If Merlin hadn't been the medic, by his side when the attack happened he would be dead right now.

A cold chill swept through his body and he shivered. Merlin was meant to be there, protecting him, keeping him alive as he always had done, _it's my destiny_.

He glanced painfully at Morgana.

"I-I'm sorry I couldn't protect him like you asked," he spoke, his voice wavering.

"I tried but in the end he was the one that protected me."

As usual and when Merlin was better they needed to have a serious talk about that. In fact they needed to talk about a lot of things. He wanted to know everything.

"I'm just glad you're alive," she said, and he could see the sincerity in her eyes.

She took a deep breath. "I just hope Emmett will be okay."

"He will," he said with conviction. Gaius said he would and he had to believe, had to hold onto whatever hope was given to him.

* * *

The doctors left, the nurse redressed his wounds, Morgana stayed by his side for a while longer. But after having the wounds re-dressed, given a prognosis of his condition and seeing his legs for himself he felt emotionally shattered, barely listening to Morgana's chatter. Eventually the words "do you want anything from home" pierced his mind.

"The sword," he murmured.

She frowned. "I can't bring that in."

"No, I mean, where did you get it again?"

A thoughtful look crossed her face. She tucked a dark strand of hair behind her ear.

"It was just some old antique shop," she replied, a tiny smile touched her lips, "With the most eccentric old man I'd ever seen, but he was so kind, and wise, knowing, it was odd."

Arthur's head whipped around to face her, his heart beating irregularly in his chest.

"Did he give a name?" he quickly asked.

"No and I didn't think to ask."

Merlin, it had to be Merlin. Merlin an old man ... it wouldn't be the first time.

'_You have caught me red handed. I have no choice but to confess.'_

Good lords and he was very nearly burnt at the stake. He now knew he did it to save Guinevere. He remembered chasing the old man through the corridor, coming across Merlin instead. Merlin standing there looking like an idiot and looking half out of it.

'_Merlin, where is the sorcerer?'_

'_Erm ...he went that way.'_

'_Are you telling me you let him run straight past you?'_

'_He was ... he was too fast for me.'_

'_He's a doddery old man. This is what happens when you spend all day at the tavern.'_

A slow smile crossed Arthur's face at the memory.

'_Merlin? What were you doing?'_

'_Peeing.'_

'_You mean you were peeing all the time I was in there?'_

'_I really had to go.'_

A low chuckle escaped his throat. Really he should have put two and two together, but who in the hell would ever have thought bumbling Merlin would be a sorcerer? So instead he had believed the ridiculous lies Merlin fed him.

Morgana glanced at him, obviously perplexed by his sudden laugh.

"I ... was just remembering something," he stammered.

* * *

Once Morgana left Arthur let his mind go back, to that time, re-living memories now knowing who Merlin really was, not that he could stop them either.

'_Is this really as fast as you can walk?'_

'_When you are as old as I, we will see how fast you can walk. I need to rest for a moment.'_

'_There's no time.'_

'_Then perhaps you should carry me?'_

'_Fine. If it means we get there quicker, I'll carry you.'_

That's right he had offered to piggy back old Merlin. And Merlin being the imp he was had the audacity to kick him, like he was some damn horse.

'_Did you just kick me?'_

'_Now who's wasting time? Yha!'_

'_Faster, faster.'_

Merlin really did have some nerve, and his way at getting back at him no doubt. And probably not the first.

Why did he do it? His father would have had no qualms about having him executed if he had known who Merlin really was, what he was. So why take the chance? Because Arthur had begged him to, not realizing of course who Merlin was ... and Merlin would do anything for him.

_I know you have suffered because of magic, as many have. But not all magic and not all sorcerers are the same. _

Merlin had proved that, time and time again.

_I wish only to show you that magic can be used for good. I hope one day you'll see me in a different light._

Those words spoke volumes now, and a raw pain twisted in his heart. The old man, Merlin, really was trying to save his father but his father had died and he had been furious. Blaming the old sorcerer for everything that had gone wrong, not knowing, not understanding.

_All I know for sure is that I've lost both my parents to magic. It is pure evil. I'll never lose sight of that again._

The stricken look in Merlin's eyes, mingled with such sadness. So many times he had seen it there, it had puzzled him, but then how often had he also chosen to ignore it? It was Merlin, he'd be fine, give him more chores to do that would keep him occupied. Arthur shook his head and closed his eyes.

His mind drifted to the moment he mourned his father's death, into the early hours of the morning before leaving and descending the stairs. Merlin was sitting there, waiting for him at the bottom of the staircase looking tired and worried.

_You been here all night?_

_I didn't want you to feel that you were alone._

Arthur's hands clenched into fists, he had to stop torturing himself this way. The memories ... they had to stop ... and yet he wanted to recall them, beat himself up about his total stupidity and blindness.

Quiet footsteps on the floor alerted him to someone's presence. He recognized the sound of her quiet footfall in a second, Gwen. He tried to get his emotions in check, but failing and turned his pain filled gaze to hers.

Sudden concern and confusion crossed her face.

"Arthur?"

God he was glad she was here.

"Are you alright?"

No, not really. She quickly crossed the floor to his bedside.

"What's happened?"

He shook his head, "Nothing."

And everything, a look of relief flooded her face but she chewed down on her lip as if not sure to believe him. He caught a waft of her perfume.

"You don't look alright?"

He didn't know what to say. She always had managed to see straight through him.

"Sit down, please."

She sat in the chair beside his bed and his eyes rested on her face. She really did look exactly the same though the clothes had changed somewhat, and for once she wasn't wearing a uniform. He could tell by her expression that she still didn't remember. His heart sunk.

"What is it?" she asked, frowning, puzzled, worried.

"You're wearing pink."

It was the only thing he could think of, _and you were once my wife but now you don't remember me_.

"I know and it seems weird," she smiled, "After nearly three months at Camp Bastion I was beginning to forget what it felt like to be feminine."

"You look pretty."

She had that half shy look on her face, a look he remembered so well it brought a lump to his throat.

He noted the blue denim jeans she was wearing and the pink tight fitting long sleeved top, her face devoid of any make-up except for the pink lip gloss. He liked that colour on her, remembering the pink pretty dress she wore when they slipped out into the woods for a romantic rendezvous.

She wore flowers in her hair that was braided and tied back. Now her hair was loose and free flowing, those curls, shorter in length, just above her shoulders and curling down around her pretty face. Raising a hand, he couldn't help but to catch a stray curl, watching mesmerised as it clung to his finger. He saw the hint of colour in her cheeks. His fingers lightly caressed her face, his thumb running over her sensual lips. And god help him but he was going to kiss her because it had been far too long and he needed it, needed her. For once she wasn't pulling back, and when his eyes met hers he could tell she wanted it as much as he did. And then he did the only rational thing, the one thing he had wanted to do for so long now.

His lips found hers. Such a long passionate kiss, so sweet in its familiarity making his heart ache and her tongue slipped intimately into his mouth. He could taste the longing there, a longing that matched his own.

"Gwen," he murmured hoarsely, his hands ploughing through her hair.

He couldn't seem to get enough of her. Such was his need. Everything that had been lost to him, now within his grasp and he reached for it like a blind man, the want to be with her overriding all of his other senses.

She was the one to pull back, her eyes widening in sudden shock at what had just happened.

_Don't regret it_ ..._ please don't regret. _He waited for her to say _I can't trust my heart to you again_, was dreading it but when his eyes met hers her saw the tears glistening on her eyelashes.

"Gwen," he began, his heart thumping slowly in his chest, "Why are you crying?"

Glancing away, she brushed the sleeved of her top across her eyes.

"I-I don't know why."

His hand cupped her face, _remember me_. If only she remembered. Her skin felt smooth and soft to touch.

"I'm scared Arthur," she whispered.

"Don't be," he quickly added, his thumb brushing away a single tear that slid down her cheek.

"I won't hurt you again," he continued, his voice hoarse, "I promise."

Her brow furrowed. "You can't promise something like that."

He could and he would. One day she would have to believe him. But right now all he could see was confusion in her eyes. Dammit.

She drew a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. His hand fell to his side.

She clenched her hands together in her lap, as she always did when nervous or unsure about something. He looked at her with open confusion.

"You can't tell me you didn't feel anything when we kissed then?"

Knowing she did, knowing she felt just as much as him, even if she didn't remember.

She nodded. "Of course I feel it," her voice broke off then and she glanced down at her hands. "You know I do."

He was at a loss on what to say next so he said the only thing that came to mind, the only thing that mattered. Perhaps something he should have said before.

"I love you. I've never stopped loving you."

Her eyes closed but not before he saw more tears fill them. His heart constricted in his chest. What did it take to make her believe him?

"Yet you let your father dictate otherwise," she said so quietly he barely heard the words.

"My father is a ruthless man," he muttered, running a frustrated hand through his hair. "You don't know what he's capable off."

She raised pain filled eyes to his. "Yes I do."

Not nearly enough. She once did, in that other lifetime, the one she didn't remember. Even in death, as a ghost, his father had still tried to get rid of her. As well as Merlin and in that moment, he had realized that he was his own man. He no longer needed the approval of his father. This man who had tried to kill the people most precious to him and he had to be gone, from his life, forever.

He had mourned his death in that other life but it was the death of his father that allowed him his freedom. He could now marry Guinevere and be the King he wanted to be and not what his father wanted him to be. However, his father was now alive and well, a ghost come back to haunt him, definitely very real.

He sighed, tight and small, it hurt his chest.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, "I'm sorry for what he has done and I'm not like him."

Her breath caught in her throat and at last her eyes met his. He saw the sincerity there, just like old times and the determination.

"I know you are nothing like him, you have a good heart."

_I believe in you Arthur._

He managed a smile and took her hand in his.

"Then you should know that I would never intentionally hurt you."

"Intentionally no, but unintentionally ..." her voice broke off there.

The raw pain in her eyes tore at his heart. What had put that pain there and why? What was she so afraid off?

"Maybe," she murmured, voice shaking, "Probably."

He shut his eyes and shook his head, trying to hold onto what little composure he had left. He didn't want to hear this. The Guinevere he once knew wouldn't have said that, she wouldn't have given up so easily. So what had happened to her this life time to change it?

"Guinev ..." he quickly amended the word, "Gwen, one thing I know is that life is too short and sometimes you just have to risk it."

He should know, a life cut short, a life never reaching or becoming what it should have. He had been wrong about so many things.

"Y-You can't spend it living in fear."

Indecision skittered across her face, and something else; a deep sadness.

"You don't know what it is to lose Arthur, w-what it is to grieve."

Her voice was a mere whisper, as quiet as the still breeze on the morning air.

"You're wrong," he began and his voice shook, "I do know."

Merlin, he had been so wrong about him and having no time to make amends.

Her eyes clouded with an emotion he couldn't define before resting on her hands again.

What more could he say? It was too soon for her, yet, unless she remembered and that didn't look likely to be happening.

Arthur sighed heavily and looked across the room.

"Arthur," she finally spoke, "I saw Emmett."

He slowly turned his head to look at her, almost afraid of what he would see in her eyes; was it good or bad? But what he saw was hope.

"I called him Merlin like you said and Arthur ... he responded, I know he could hear me."

His heart thudded in his chest. "He's ..."

"Still in a coma but he's there, fighting. I know he is."

Relief hit him hard in the guts. Merlin, fighting, Merlin always was a fighter.

"How did you know Arthur?" she asked, a puzzled frown denting her smooth forehead. "Did you dream of me, did you call me Guinevere in the dream?"

"Yes," he admitted.

She went still, a dozen conflicting emotions crossing her face.

"But how could you know?" she continued at length.

"Is it your name?"

"Yes," she breathed, "It was."

"Why did you change it by Deed Poll?"

She took so long to answer he didn't think she would.

"It was after my father had died," she began, "I didn't want to be Guinevere, that girl I'd been. Well, she was gone and the tougher stronger girl I had had to become ... I don't know, just that Gwen seemed more fitting after everything I'd lost."

Her words disturbed him far more than he thought possible, _that girl ... she was gone ... stronger girl I had to become._

He was beginning to see her in a whole different light and it was odd. She had always been there for him, but little thought had he ever really given to what she had been through growing up. But now he was suddenly curious about her, this young woman she now was.

His hand lightly grasped her fingers and an unsteady smile briefly crossed her face. He was about to ask more when Morgana walked into the room.

"Gwen," Morgana exclaimed, smiling widely.

Gwen turned, stood to her feet and the two girls embraced. Arthur watched on, a lump forming in his throat, a similar scene replaying in his head. He had rescued Gwen and brought her back, the two girls hugging, much like now before it all changed, before Morgana became the hateful, vengeful person he didn't want to remember.

Surely that wouldn't happen this time around? There was no need for her to be was there? Not like they were ruling a kingdom and Arthur was actually sort of glad about that. Despite the fact that he had no bloody idea why he was here again, why they all were, he was still glad he was.

The girls broke apart.

"Emmett?" Morgana quickly asked her concern obvious.

"He's holding on," Gwen replied.

Morgana simply nodded, and she glanced at him. Letting go of Gwen and moving to his bedside.

"The surgery is about to start are you ready?"

Not really, he'd only just come out of surgery on his leg one day ago, but not as if he had much choice.

"Are you?"

"Of course."

But the smile she gave him was shaky at best.

"You don't have to do this?"

"I want to do this."

"Do what?" Gwen inquired.

"Arthur needs skin grafts and I'm going to be the donor."

"That ... that is kind of you," she said softly.

"He's my brother," she returned warmly.

Least he had known that much this lifetime. His father hadn't lied nearly half as much. Morgana leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek, much to his surprise and shock.

"Good luck," she murmured.

"You too and thank you."

She squeezed his hand before turning to Gwen.

"Can you visit me after it's over?"

"Of course."

Morgana left the room and he glanced at Gwen, noting the wistful look on her face. What was she thinking?

He shifted his position, unable to hold back a pain filled groan. God it hurt to move.

Gwen was quickly by his side once more.

He screwed his eyes shut.

"You didn't tell me I had third degree burns," he croaked through gritted teeth.

He felt her fingers lightly stroke his hair.

"You sent me away before I had the chance."

He opened his eyes and gazed up at her. She was right. He had and he was sorry afterwards. He had so many things to apologize for.

"I-I saw it today, my legs," he swallowed hard, hating the way his voice wavered, "It looked ... you're a nurse Gwen, give it to me straight."

Taking a deep breath she took his hand in hers, looking openly and directly into his eyes. He saw the compassion there and he wanted so badly to hold her, have her hold him.

"It's going to take a long time to heal Arthur, you will be frustrated, you will be in pain and you won't be able to do much of anything for a time but eventually you will get better, just try to remain as positive as you can."

He was mesmerized by the sincerity in her eyes. There was so much he wanted to say, but he couldn't. Right now he wished she remembered more than ever.

But he never got the chance to say anything more when two orderlies entered the room.

"Time for surgery," one of them announced.

Great, bloody more surgery and he glanced back at Gwen, gripping her hand tightly.

"Don't leave me again."

She looked at him puzzled and slightly hurt. "I won't if you don't keep sending me away."

He swallowed the lump in his throat.

"The matron," he began, "Can you stay?"

"Yes."

His relief was palpable. At least there was that, she wouldn't be going away just yet.

The orderlies unlocked his bed and began to wheel it out of the room. He gave her one last longing look.

"I will always love you."

Knowing she couldn't say it back. Not yet but maybe one day.

She bit down on her lip looking torn and confused.

"You'll be fine Arthur, I-I'll see you soon." But he still heard the slight tremor in her voice.

* * *

Gwen sat in the chair, biting her thumb nail, re-living the kiss over and over in her mind and his parting words, _I will always love you._ Those words haunted her. She had heard them before, but that wasn't possible. He had never said them before now.

Maybe he did love her, or maybe it was finding himself in his current predicament that was making him say it. But when she had kissed him, it was as if time itself had stood still. She had done this before, with him and the familiarity ... so achingly sweet.

She paced the room, feeling restless and very confused. She had never felt this way for a man before now. It both confused and disturbed her at the same time. She was so woefully out of touch when it came to men. There had never been any time for relationships in her life. She had been on dates, some fleeting passing relationships but she had never been in love. Often she had worried that perhaps she never would fall in love, as if it were something not for her.

Getting to her feet and feeling restless Gwen went to see Emmett. If only he were awake. She needed to talk to him about these crazy thoughts and feelings she was having. He was the only one who understood.

'_Have you ever been in love?' _ She had once asked him.

'_A long time ago, it didn't last long.'_

He had looked so sad that she didn't press it any further.

Gwen reached his room, took a deep breath, hoping he would be awake, but then stopping in the doorway. The same old man from yesterday was sitting by his bedside. Why was he there?

Peeking around the door she watched as the old man placed his hand on Emmett's shoulder, much like a father would to a son.

"You have to pull through Merlin. You have a destiny to fulfill."

Merlin ... how did he know him? Who was he? What did he mean by destiny?

'_It's my fault. If I'd have gotten here sooner. If I'd been quicker.'_

They were just random words. It didn't mean anything. Images of her hugging the older man blurred her vision.

'_No, no. It was me. I should've looked after him better. It's my fault.'_

Taking a deep painful breath Gwen moved away. It had to be sleep deprivation and nothing more. She rubbed her tired eyes. Maybe she should have a quick nap. That might get rid of the strange words and random images in her head. But she doubted that nothing could fix the unsettled feeling residing in the pit of her stomach.

* * *

Morgana was in a place she didn't want to be. It was horrible. So many dead bodies lay scattered at her feet. And as far as the eye could see, a red flag with a golden dragon embedded on it was floating, tattered and torn, on a forlorn breeze, so desolate.

What had she done? What had she become?

An old man appeared in front of her with long flowing white hair and beard, his eyes intense, imploring, filled with a deep concealed anger but anger also mixed with regret.

"Is that what you want Morgana?"

No ... it wasn't supposed to be this way. It was just a dream. She had to wake up ... wake up.

Morgana's eyes opened and she took in a deep breath. The dream still so real and vivid in her mind, it left a deep ache in her heart she couldn't explain.

She blinked once, then twice as a slow realization began to take hold ... the old man in the dream ... she knew him, from somewhere.

'_There was this old man, he looked as ancient as the old relics in the shop but his eyes ... were alive, bright and somehow knowing.'_

She shivered and pulled the blanket closer to herself.

'_I know this is going to sound crazy but it's as if he knew me.'_

Of course, the old man in the antique shop. He was in her dream ... it had to be him?

Why was she dreaming of him? And what was that awful desolate place with all of the dead bodies? She tightly clutched the blanket in her hands. It's just a dream she quietly reassured herself, but she didn't really believe it. Part of her knowing it had to be more.

* * *

Arthur came around to see his father by his bedside. The last person he expected or wanted to see. He couldn't help the bitter resentment.

_You stopped me from seeing Guinevere, you banished her, you were going to have her executed, you even tried to kill her and even now you are still threatening her._

What about what he wanted or didn't that count for anything? He had loved his father, sought his approval, but at what expense and now he was totally confused about his feelings towards him.

_You're nothing but a hypocrite and a liar. This is what fuels your hatred for those that practice magic. Rather than blame yourself for what you did, you blame them._

His mother, the sad sorry tale and had Merlin lied about that as well? But why would he? To stop him killing his father, he slowly and painfully began to realize It seemed a whole other lifetime ago now and yet not. That would be another question he would have for Merlin when he came too.

"I'm sorry I didn't come to see you earlier but I had important meetings to attend," his father explained.

Of course, always work before anything else. As it always had been and at some deeper level he knew his father loved him, but was it ever unconditional?

"I understand," he replied but he really didn't, just that it was easier to give his father what he wanted to hear instead of the truth.

His father patted his shoulder and Arthur noticed the way he averted his eyes from his legs and it suddenly dawned on him that his father was finding it hard to see him in this state.

"You'll be up and about in no time."

"No I won't," he muttered bitterly, "Doctors said it would be eight months before I'm walking again."

"What would doctors know," his father said with a dismissive wave of his hand, "You're a Pendragon, made of stern stuff."

Arthur could hardly believe his ears. His father was clearly deluded, just as he always had been.

He could almost laugh at the bitter irony of it all, nothing had really changed.

"And if I'm not," he challenged. "I could still lose my leg."

"You won't."

He probably wouldn't if Merlin was here, if Merlin was well and able enough to heal him, but he wasn't. This time the fate of his leg was really at the mercy of the gods.

"Arthur I know things have been strained between us," his father began.

"They don't have to be," he returned bluntly.

"I'm only doing what I think is best for you."

"No, you are doing what you think is best for yourself."

His father's face hardened. "Is that what you really think?"

Arthur sighed. "Yes it is and there is nothing yet to indicate otherwise."

His father stared out the window, his expression stony.

"This is to do with that girl isn't it?"

"Yes."

His father glanced at him. "You are young ..." he began.

"But not too young to know what I want."

His father's hand rested on his hip, giving him a direct look.

"She is just a commoner."

"I don't care, I love her."

An incredulous look crossed his father's face.

"You can have any woman you want and there are so many beautiful women out there and she isn't anything to look at!"

Arthur's eyes narrowed.

"She is beautiful," he began evenly, "To me and I don't care what you think."

"Are you in a relationship with her?"

"No."

Not from lack of wanting to though and he noted the pleased, smug look on his father's face. His resentment increased tenfold. He may have gotten his way thus far but not for much longer.

"Don't even think about doing anything to her because if you do you won't have a son anymore, I'll turn my back on everything, you and the whole damn Pendragon Industries."

He saw the outraged look on his father's face.

"You are clearly not in a right state of mind!"

"My mind has never been clearer."

* * *

Gwen stood transfixed on the other side of the door, _I don't care, I love her ... she is beautiful to me ... don't even think about doing anything to her ... you won't have a son anymore._

She took in deep breaths of air, her lungs smarting.

Did Arthur really mean it? Of course he did, he had always been sincere, always loved her despite everything.

The dark cloud that had thus far terrified her suddenly threatened to consume her.

Clutching her sides she stumbled to the nearest toilet.

"No, no, no!"

She couldn't remember ... she didn't want to!

She gazed at her stricken expression in the mirror, the image blurring before her as other different images took hold, Arthur's desperate tone of voice and the anguish on his face.

'_No! Guinevere!'_

She screwed her eyes shut, Arthur struggling to break free of the guards that held him.

'_Arthur! No! Arthur, please ...'_

_She was being dragged away from him, towards the doors that would separate them forever. She was going to be executed, she would die. She would never see him again._

_Arthur broke away from the guards and grabbed hold of her, a lifeline he couldn't lose. His lips found hers and he kissed her, passionately, longingly, till he was pulled away. She saw the pain and desperation in his eyes._

'_I will always love you.'_

She slumped to the ground, her mind exploding into a million tiny fragments. She clutched at her hair. What was happening to her?

* * *

A thick white fog had encompassed him and time had become meaningless. He was floating, somewhere, out of time and space. A place he didn't know. Wasn't there somewhere he had to be?

Every now and again a sudden urgency would overwhelm him and he tried fighting against the fog, but his body refused to respond, a thousand sharp needles piercing his brain.

He was alone, he was afraid.

The harder he tried to think or recall what had happened the more intense the pain in his head became.

Panic took hold.

Who was he?

Where was he?

The white fog swirling around him began to clear and he found himself standing in a field, the blue sky above, long reedy grass brushing against his legs. It was his favourite time of the year, spring. The flowers in full blossom, the air thick with the scent of sweet nectar, pollen floating on the gentle breeze, he tried to capture it with his clumsy childish hands.

"Merlin," a voice called from afar, "Merlin."

He ran on sturdy legs towards that voice, through clothes and sheets that hung on a line, to the woman who stood there, her laughing sweet face.

She caught him in her arms and held him up high above her.

"Merlin," she smiled, "Where have you been?"

Tickling his ribs till he squealed with laughter. And everything was right in the world again. He was safe, secure and loved. His mother, just as he remembered. How much he had missed her.

She hugged him to herself.

"You're home now."

There was no pain in that place, no fear. He was just Merlin the boy, the boy that became a young man. A young man that ploughed fields, part of a small community, no one of importance but hiding a secret he could never talk about. His mother's worried eyes would follow him. Her words would haunt him, words that would determine the rest of his life.

'_You're special Merlin, different but still a boy, still human and that makes you vulnerable. You must hide your magic. If people know they will try to hurt you, kill you even. Promise me Merlin. Promise me you will never tell anyone your secret?'_

'_I promise mother.'_

A faint glow emanated from the fireplace.

'_Life's simple out here,' he said to the fair haired young man who lay alongside him. 'You eat what you grow and everyone pitches in together. As long as you've got food on the table and a roof over your head, you're happy.'_

'_Sounds ... nice.'_

'_You'd hate it.'_

Arthur? Was it Arthur?

'_Why'd you leave?'_

'_Things ... just changed.'_

He had magic, a secret he could never reveal, a destiny yet to be fulfilled and he fell silent.

'_How? Come on, stop pretending to be interesting. Tell me.'_

Arthur rubbed his head with his stinky feet. Merlin pushed them away, smiling and screwing up his nose at the same time.

_I just didn't fit in anymore. I wanted to find somewhere that I did._

And why was Arthur here? Arthur, a noble prince, here in this simple hovel of a hut Merlin called home?

'_He must care for you a great deal.' _

_He gazed into his mother's earnest face._

'_Arthur would do the same for any village. That's just the way he is.'_

'_It's more than that. He's here for you.'_

'_I'm just his servant.'_

'_Give him more credit than that. He likes you.'_

Arthur liked him, really? Not if he knew who and what he really was. Would Arthur still be his friend if he found out the truth? No he would reject him as some kind of monster, a person to be feared and hated. Merlin could never face that. He didn't want to see the rejection, mistrust and hate in Arthur's eyes. He couldn't bear such a thing. His heart would break into a thousand pieces, unable to ever be fixed.

Always secrets, always lies, his whole life spent hiding the truth. A man could only take so much.

The white fog was soothing, wrapping him in a cocoon. He was safe here. No one or nothing could hurt him. He could stay in his mother's arms. She would hold him. He didn't have to lie to her, didn't have to pretend to be something he wasn't.

He could ignore the voice that called to him, despite the desperate urgent tone of that voice ... y_ou have a destiny to be fulfilled._

Destiny ... hadn't he given enough already? What more did he have to do, what more could he suffer?

His heart ached with a lifetime of loss and sorrow.

'_You have to go Merlin. You belong at Arthur's side. I've seen how much he needs you. How much you need him. You're like two sides of the same coin.'_

Arthur. Something had happened to him, something bad.

He remembered Gwen, _I need you Merlin. You have to come back to us ... Merlin_

Yes ... he had to go back. Gwen was alone, Arthur was injured.

'_I'm coming'_

He fought the fog that swirled in the recesses of his mind. He had to reach Arthur in time before it was too late! He had to save him.

'_I'm coming Arthur.'_

Just hold on. Such was his desperation, his sole purpose, protect Arthur, save Arthur.

'_With all your magic, Merlin, and you can't save my life.'_

'_I can. I'm not going to lose you.'_

Arthur was like a dead weight in his arms. This couldn't be happening ... how had this happened? He had failed.

'_Arthur ... No! Arthur!' _He frantically felt for his pulse_. 'Arthur! Arthur. Come on,' _his voice raw and desperate,_ 'Arthur!'_

Tears streamed down his face, he really had failed, all these years ... only to lose, everything that mattered to him.

It couldn't end this way! There had to be something more. The pain ... the loss, _'he's my friend. I can't lose him!_

Arthur wasn't dead. It couldn't be, this ... wasn't real.

He had to ... fight ... had to ... go back ... back to Arthur.

* * *

His eyes sprung open, a bright white light causing him to blink. It took a moment to get his bearings. He was in a room of sorts but unlike any room he'd ever seen. There was a horrible heaviness in his chest.

Where was he?

"Merlin?"

There was that voice again. He knew that voice from somewhere. A blurred face came into view.

"Merlin, can you hear me?"

His eyes rested on the old man's face, those deep lines etched there, a face that had lived and suffered some. One eyebrow shot up higher than the other, concern and worry in the depths of his eyes.

And that face ... just that something was different? It couldn't be ... could it? He tried to formulate the word on his tongue.

It sounded gargled but he persisted.

"G-G ... us?"

The old man grinned, tears flooded his eyes.

"Merlin," he breathed.

His hand rested on his shoulder and he squeezed it gently.

"Good to see you again," the next word trembled on his lips, "My boy."

* * *

**A/N: I'm kind of really glad to reach the point of Merlin waking up as I want to write Merlin and Arthur together again. That being said I still loved writing this chapter, but I'm not sure if it is as good as my usual standard? That's the problem with long chapters. It is terribly time consuming editing them! I hate to think that this chapter is lacking so I hope it's not? I tried my best but time, as always, does get the better of me and if I leave it for too much longer I'd just start doubting myself (it's not good enough, it should be better) and then take forever to upload it! As it is I don't feel the last scene ended up being as good as I pictured in it my mind. **

**Reviews are always much loved and appreciated.**


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: Thank you for all the encouragement in the way of reviews for this story to date. The thought of so many people enjoying and following this story makes my day, as it always does. I look so forward to reading the reviews.**

**Another long chapter! As said before I have an idea in my mind on where I want the chapter to end. Sometimes it takes me a while to get there! **

**This has only been edited by me so there could be errors. I try my best and I didn't have time to email it to my beta reader as life is incredibly busy at present. I have, unfortunately, picked up extra classes and now have less time as a result. But I know what I'd rather be doing and that is writing.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

_**Chapter 18.**_

* * *

Merlin tried to get his head around where he was. Gaius? How ... why?

It was an effort to keep his eyelids open. His throat felt like sand paper it was that dry. There was a deep jarring pain in his heart at the sight of the old man, almost as if there had been a long separation. It made no sense to his muddled state of mind.

Where was he? His head felt disconnected from his body, it hurt and a lot. So much that it felt like hot prongs were being pressed into his brain, a form of torture?

Had he been tortured?

Morgana, did she do this to him?

"W – W ..." but the words, as much as he could formulate them in his head, wouldn't come out.

"Side effect from the head injury," Gaius reassured. "Try sipping some water, it might help."

Not that he felt reassured. What head injury? But that at least explained why his head felt like it was about to split apart.

Gaius held a glass of water with a straw to his parched lips and he managed to take a sip.

It couldn't have been Morgana, he slowly began to realize, because Morgana was dead, wasn't she? The memories in his head were scattered and disjointed. As much as he tried to grasp them they eluded him.

Sudden panic took hold. What had happened to him?

"It's alright Merlin," Gaius spoke in a soothing tone of voice. "Take another sip of water."

The water helped his throat a little. His gaze landed on the older man. He frowned. There was something else odd about all of this, why was Gaius' hair short? What were those really weird looking clothes he was wearing?

More other disturbing thoughts entered his confused, jumbled head, wasn't Gaius supposed to be dead too?

Everyone was dead. Everyone dying, always dying but they lived on like ghosts in his head, haunting him.

Is that all Gaius was, a ghost his disillusioned mind had conjured out of thin air?

The grief, failure, everything he'd ever hoped for ... gone.

He had been terribly alone, for so long.

He didn't want to live forever. It was a curse. He turned his pained expression to Gaius.

"Y-Y ... n-n ... r ... l-l."

None of this was real. He was dreaming or worst hallucinating.

A concerned frown crossed Gaius' face as he placed the glass of water on the bedside table.

"I am real Merlin, you are real," he stated, clutching his hand tightly. "My hand is warm."

Merlin glanced down at Gaius' hand. Yes, it was warm. Dreams had no touch sensation. It couldn't be a dream and he couldn't be a ghost. It then had to be a hallucination.

"What do you remember Merlin?" Gaius continued, sounding worried.

Images shifted and rambled through his mind, painful, cruel images. Arthur was dead. He watched on as the boat carried his body across the lake. Such an indescribable grief, as if he could never function again. He had failed. He had lost his best friend. Nothing would be the same.

He shut his eyes, feeling hollow inside.

"Ar-th ... d-e-a ..."

"No Arthur is very much alive."

Merlin's eyes sprung open. Arthur, alive ... how? His heart beat sped up at the thought, hope sprung in his heart. There were a dozen things he wanted to ask.

Where was Arthur?

How did he come back?

Why was he now injured? How had he ended up this way?

Gaius' hand rested on his shoulder, a serious look crossing his lined face.

"Merlin it's 2012."

Merlin blinked. What? 2012? What?

"You don't remember?"

He went to shake his head, the sudden sharp needles of pain making him wince.

"Merlin you are in the Army?"

His eyes widened. He was what?

A sudden flash of memory, walking in the heat and dust, in single file, the back pack he carried weighing a ton.

"You were injured in a bomb blast," Gaius continued, "As was Arthur."

Arthur was injured. Where was he now? He had to see him!

Merlin tried moving. Gaius put a restraining hand on his shoulder.

"He's alright. It's you we've been worried about."

"I –I ..." but the words wouldn't come and he felt his frustration mounting.

Maybe if he couldn't say the words he could write them?

"P-P ..."

Raising his right hand he attempted to mimic holding a pen. Gaius soon caught on. Found pen and paper for him. It was then that Merlin realized that for some reason his left arm didn't want to move. Still, unperturbed, it was Arthur he was concerned about.

He hadn't seen him in such a very very long time. It might be 2012 and maybe it was only a couple of days ago since he last saw him, but he didn't remember it. To him it felt like a thousand years.

Merlin scribbled the words, 'I _want to see Arthur.'_

Gaius raised an eyebrow.

"Indeed you do Merlin but that's not possible yet, in case you haven't realized you've spent the last three days in a coma, a coma you were not expected to pull out of."

Merlin frowned.

"The only reason you survived was because of your immortality, but I'm afraid my boy that it will be a while before you can move."

Merlin's frown deepened at the word _immortality,_ a nagging thought taking residence in the back of his mind. There was something he should know about that, but he just couldn't recall what it was.

'_What about Arthur?_' he scribbled on the paper.

"Arthur can't be moved either, least not for seven days, till the skin grafts have healed sufficiently."

Merlin raised a questioning eyebrow - skin grafts?

"Arthur suffered burns to his legs and his right lower leg is badly fractured."

'_I can heal him,' _he wrote_._

Gaius shook his head. "No you can't Merlin. Under no circumstances are you to use your magic."

"W-Why?" he stammered.

What's the point in having magic if he couldn't use it? '_I've always used my magic for Arthur.'_

"Any use of magic would be greatly detrimental to your own health. Your body needs to heal itself first. You know using magic affects your own energy levels, think what it will do to you if you were to use it now in this weakened state?"

He didn't care. Arthur needed him. He would be fine. He was immortal after all.

'_It's a grey hair.' _Gwen's smiling face flashed through his mind. She was holding up a single strand of his hair.

Merlin swallowed, and maybe not.

"You don't want to slip back into a coma," Gaius stressed.

No and he could very well die. He wasn't immortal anymore.

"Merlin what is it?" Gaius asked, alarmed.

Sighing, he wrote, _'I'm not immortal anymore.'_

Gaius' eyes widened in shock and Merlin grimaced, _'I can die,' _he scribbled.

"Even more reason you are not to use magic, but Merlin how do you know?"

A brief twisted smile crossed his face, _Gwen found a grey hair._

He glanced at Gaius, _'what does it mean?'_

Gaius was deep in thought, Merlin had lived far longer than him now, and he knew so much more.

'_Time is moving again, for me?'_

Gaius slowly nodded. "I believe so."

There was another thing Merlin needed to know.

'_How come you remember?"_

Gaius smiled. "I could never forget you Merlin."

The words touched him and warmth filled his heart.

'_Does Arthur remember?"_

"Yes, yes he does."

Merlin managed a smile.

'_Tell the prat from me that he's still a dollop head.'_

* * *

Gwen didn't know how long she sat on that cold floor. She was lost in another time and place. A place that held too many hurtful memories, too much grief; a place she didn't want to be.

She was someone else. It wasn't her. It couldn't be her.

'_Long live the Queen.'_

This wasn't how it was supposed to be. Arthur, lost to her, forever. Her heart shattered into a million pieces, pieces that would never mend. How could they?

How could fate be so cruel?

What had she done to deserve this? How could she go on? But the pain in her heart was real enough as much as she wanted to deny it.

"It's not," she whispered to herself, "It can't be. I-It's not real."

She rocked back and forth, his arms clasped tightly around her drawn up knees.

It was trick. A trick her mind had come up with from her sleep deprived state of being.

She wouldn't believe it.

But that other person refused to leave. She stamped her foot in defiance, '_you are me.'_

_She wept on the bed they had shared, her and Arthur, when she heard the news. Arthur was dead._

_Her whole body shook with sobs she couldn't control. How could she go on? How could he leave her, alone, damned to live without him for what was left of her life?_

_How could he do this to her! She would never forgive him._

_She had wept in to the early hours of the following morning, and when the tears dried she resignedly accepted her lot in life._

_She was to be Queen of Camelot. She had to be strong. Arthur had given her the throne. But the throne in his absence was cold and empty. It should have been him, not her. It was his right, not hers. He had left her with a heavy responsibility, a kingdom to rule. _

She became strong, built a wall around her heart, never risking having it broken again.

Her son, a part of Arthur, all she had left of him. The only person she ever let close was Merlin. Merlin understood her grief. She clung to him. He was the only one she would ever let see her true self, her broken heart beneath the tough facade, a former shadow of herself.

Merlin, her wise counselor, her best friend, the person she had relied upon the most. The gods, at least, in their mercy had given her Merlin.

Ruling a kingdom made a handy distraction from all she had lost. Being a mother her only joy, but so many days she had felt empty inside.

Gwen buried her face in her hands.

"No," she murmured, "It's not true."

It wasn't her. She was just Gwen, that's all, just Gwen, no one of importance and she liked it that way.

'_You sure about this Gwen?' Elyan asked, confusion in his eyes. 'Changing your name ... why would you want to do that?'_

'_Because Elyan,' her voice trembled, 'that's all I want to be, just Gwen, Guinevere no longer exists, that girl is gone, forever.'_

_She took a deep steady breath. She couldn't explain it. Not then, only the loss, the pain, who she was ... she didn't know herself anymore. _

'_And she's never coming back.'_

She was so immersed in her thoughts and grief that Gwen didn't hear the footsteps on the toilet floor until a voice spoke.

"Are you alright?"

Gwen looked up, startled. A young nurse stood there and she hastily wiped her tears away.

"I-I ... yes."

She scrambled to her feet, pushing her tousled hair back from her face.

"I'm fine," she muttered and made a quick exit, heart pounding in her chest.

What did she do, where did she go? But the answer became painfully obvious, Merlin.

Merlin was always there for her. Merlin understood. He was the only one who ever knew the true extent of her pain.

_No one ever called her Guinevere after Arthur died. It was always 'my lady', always such formal titles and to Merlin she was just Gwen, as she always had been. As it should be but at nights when she slept she would hear Arthur whisper her name, Guinevere. She would roll over in bed, expecting to find him there, but the bed was cold and empty beside her._

_Arthur was gone. He would never be coming back. She would never see him again._

'_Arthur,' she fiercely whispered, 'how could you leave me, how could you do this to me?'_

* * *

Arthur was dozing when he heard footsteps. They were not Gwen's and he could barely hide his disappointment. Definitely not his father's either, thank god. He couldn't face another round with him, too much bitter resentment there. Opening his eyes, he turned his head to see Gaius.

Gaius was the next best thing to Gwen. He obviously had news about Merlin. His pulse raced.

"Gaius?"

_Please tell me you have good news for me?_

The old man managed a weary smile.

"Merlin has come out of his coma."

Arthur blinked, and choked back a sigh of relief. Merlin, he did it, he had fought back and won. He always was a fighter, and against so many odds.

"H-He's alright?" His voice shook far more than he wanted it to.

"As well as could be expected given his predicament," Gaius replied, sitting heavily in the chair by his bed.

That had a double edged meaning to it. Arthur raised a questioning eyebrow.

"He knows who he is. Who I am and you, his mind is intact, his speech a problem, but that is to be expected after a head injury."

"Merlin can't speak?"

For someone seldom at a loss for words that would be quite the handicap. He can't imagine Merlin without voice.

"Don't worry it'll come back to him," Gaius continued.

There was something else. Arthur could see it in Gaius' eyes.

"Gauis?"

The old man hesitated for a moment.

"He doesn't appear to remember the here and now, but he's beginning to, with time I'm sure it will all come back to him."

Terrific, Arthur silently muttered. Now he remembers and Merlin doesn't. He could almost laugh at the bitter irony of that.

"He wanted to see you," Gaius continued, "But I'm afraid, like you, he can't be moved yet."

The other bitter irony, Arthur mutedly thought. He only had a million questions to ask and Merlin wasn't here to answer them. He glanced at the older man, but Gaius could.

Only where did he start? How much did he really want to know and would it hurt?

He took a deep breath.

"What happened," he began, pausing, fighting to keep emotions in check, "After I died?"

Gaius gave him a searching glance as if debating on what to say.

"We all grieved Arthur, Merlin ..." his voice broke off there as if remembering that time was painful to recall.

That troubled Arthur but he had to know.

"Merlin brought back the bad news, locked himself in his room for many days."

Arthur well remembered his determination, _'I won't lose you', _his sorrow, _'you're not going to say goodbye.'_

"Guinevere became the queen," Gaius continued.

Guinevere, his heart constricted in his chest at the mention of her name.

"Was she alright?"

How did she take his death? If it had been the other way around, he doubted he could go on. Maybe he didn't need to hear this? It hurt as he knew it would.

"She did her best to hide her grief, least to everyone else, except Merlin but then they always were close friends."

It made sense, though he couldn't help the twinge of pain. It should have been him.

"She became quite dependent on him."

Just as she was now, he silently mused, as they all were. Who would have ever thought that a sorcerer, someone supposedly evil had the purest heart of them all?

"The ten years I lived after you Arthur there was peace throughout the kingdom. She made Merlin her adviser a-and ..." Gaius voice broke off there as if he was unsure on what to say.

"Go on," Arthur prompted.

"Court sorcerer."

He was stupefied for a moment, Merlin, court sorcerer ... but why not. He would have done the same, if he had lived, wouldn't he? But he had never gotten the chance.

"You mean she lifted the ban off magic."

"Indeed."

"And there was peace?"

He could scarcely believe it.

"Yes, well Morgana was dead and had no allies left, in fact in her short cruel time as a high priestess other magic people came to fear her as much as they feared your father."

Arthur didn't know what to say. It was hard to process, hard to imagine life moving on after he had died. Merlin had really restored peace. He at least lived long enough to see that, to see him kill Morgana.

'_The time for all this bloodshed is over. I blame myself for what you've become ... but this has to end.'_

Why had Merlin blamed himself? He knew Merlin felt no sense of victory killing Morgana, just a resigned sadness.

"Ironic isn't it," Gaius quipped, "How like Uther she really was, unable to let go of her hatred as much as Uther was unable to let go of his."

Yes it was ironic. His father, unreasonable, blinded by his prejudice and hatred and what Morgana had become. Just like him. It had saddened him greatly to see her descent into darkness and madness.

"He hated magic because it took your mother's life," Gaius continued.

Arthur didn't feel at all sorry for his father but he did for Morgana.

"Yet he was the one responsible for it," he said harshly.

Gaius raised an eyebrow. "Yet without it you would never have been born."

Arthur shut his mouth. Felt the bitter resentment reside in the pit of this gut at the thought of his life in place of his mother's, it was wrong.

His birth the result of a lie, a trick and he swallowed hard. He had to stop his mind going there, it didn't bear thinking about.

"Morgana is here," he spoke, "She doesn't remember."

Gaius didn't look surprised by this news. "I guess she would be."

"What happens if she does?"

Gaius didn't look too concerned.

"She doesn't have magic Arthur."

"She still hates father," he quickly added.

"As do you?"

Hate was a strong word. He had very nearly killed his own father once before, even if in another lifetime and he resented him now.

"I don't know what I feel," he sighed bitterly, "He has a lot to answer for."

"But who are any of us to pass judgement?"

Arthur glanced at the shrewd old man. He always did have a way with words.

"Why are we all here again?" he asked, because it made no sense to him.

Gaius took a moment to answer, as if pondering this in his mind carefully.

"Destiny went wrong, perhaps," he began, "A course correction, something important you are yet to do, and maybe also a second chance at redemption."

So poetically uttered, and yet it brought Arthur some peace of mind. He might not believe the whole destiny thing, but he was here for a reason. Whatever that would be?

There was just one other question he had to ask.

"Did Guinevere marry again?"

"No, not in the ten years I was alive."

Relief, then guilt for feeling relieved, she was young and beautiful. She should have married again. It's not like they had any children together. Maybe she had married after Gaius died? Though part of him hoped not, selfish as it seemed.

Merlin was the only person to know the full story. He would have to patiently wait to see him to ask already knowing that whatever Merlin had to say would hurt. How could it not.

After Gaius left, Arthur noticed the piece of paper on the bed. Gaius must have left it there. He picked the paper up and read the scribble on it. Luckily the words were large, and even if the letters a bit crooked, he was able to read them without his glasses.

_I want to see Arthur._

It had to be Merlin. His curiosity aroused he continued reading.

_What about Arthur?_

_I can heal him. I've always used my magic for Arthur._

A lump formed in his throat at the painful memory, '_I have magic. And I use it for you, Arthur. Only for you.'_

He sighed heavily, rubbing his forehead as if that would erase the painful memory.

_I'm not immortal anymore._

Arthur froze. Had Merlin really lived all of this time? Of course he knew this in part, only that he hadn't thought about it in much detail. Mostly because the thought of living so long and seeing people you get attached to die was just to disturbing to consider.

_I can die. _

Arthur swallowed the lump in his throat at those words. Merlin bloody well could have died from that explosion after all!

_Gwen found a grey hair._

_What does it mean?_

_Time is moving again, for me._

_How come you remember?_

_Does Arthur remember?_

_Tell the prat from me that I still think he's a dollop head._

His lips twitched with a smile. Merlin still had that same quirky sense of humour.

He clutched the scrap of paper tightly to his chest.

"Shit Merlin," he muttered hoarsely.

Trust him to make light of a situation that was anything but!

* * *

Gwen stood in the doorway of Merlin's room for a long time, watching him sleep. He looked so young. But of course he was young. Why wouldn't he be? She frowned at the sudden image of him being older.

"I'm not losing it, I'm not losing it," she chanted and crossed the floor to his bed.

She sat down in the chair beside his bed, heart heavy.

"Merlin," she murmured, the tears that had threatened now rolled down her cheeks.

"Oh Merlin," her voice broke and she took his hand in hers, bringing it up to her cheek.

"I'm losing my mind, I'm going insane, I keep having these horrible images in my head."

She clutched his hand tightly to her face.

"Do you feel these tears?" she continued, her chest hurting.

"I need you Merlin. I need you to tell me I'm not crazy."

She felt Merlin's fingers curl in her hair and raised a tear soaked face to his. Much to her astonishment his eyes were open. Those beautiful wide blue eyes of his, eyes she had despaired of ever seeing again.

Her breath caught in her throat.

"N-Not," he began in a broken strained voice, "C ... z-y."

More tears pooled in her eyes, not tears of sadness but immeasurable relief.

His fingers tightened in her hair.

"Gwen."

Their eyes locked and held as a dozen memories shifted between them, the tears in her eyes reflected in his. He knew, a shared past, painful as it was, there had also been good times. He was Merlin and a deep contentment filled her for the first time in days.

"Merlin," she murmured, hugging him.

Merlin could scarcely believe it. Did this now mean Gwen remembered?

Her body shook with sobs and he patted her back, much like a parent soothing a child. So many words he wanted to say but couldn't.

_It'll be alright_, a mumbled jargon of sounds that made no sense. Still it didn't seem to matter. She understood his intentions. She always had.

He could tell she was distressed and confused. He wanted to reassure her, wanted to discuss that time. Tell her everything would be okay. But it was still an effort to keep his eyes open, and he felt incredibly tired, his body demanding rest to heal.

"Mus ... s-s ...p."

"Of course, plenty of time for talking later," she replied with a shaky smile.

She remained by his bedside. He was aware of her comforting presence, just like in the days of old.

* * *

The dreams troubled her, a lot. Morgana couldn't understand it. Why would she dream such a thing? And such a terrible thing at that?

It left her feeling deeply disturbed and unsettled.

Where was Gwen? She had promised she would see her. Morgana needed her soothing presence right now.

She didn't want to be alone with her thoughts.

Uther walked into the room. She didn't want to be alone with him either, and her whole body stiffened.

"How's Arthur?" she asked.

"Arthur is," he began, looking somewhat distracted, "Fine."

Morgana frowned. She couldn't help feeling that father was greatly bothered by something to do with Arthur.

"What about you? How are you feeling?"

She didn't want his concern, yet part of her yearned for the warmth, any sort of recognition. She despised herself for it. She would never forgive Uther. He didn't deserve forgiveness. The hatred she felt was stronger than ever, surprising her with its intensity.

"I'm okay."

"What you did ... was kind," he continued, appearing surprised by her generosity.

"He's my brother, why wouldn't I do it for him?"

Did he think so little of her, she silently fumed.

Uther frowned, a hand resting on his hip.

"I don't know where Arthur's head is at present," he grumbled.

"I don't expect you do," she returned coolly.

He turned to her suddenly, scowling.

"What is it with you and Arthur?" he snapped. "He's fallen in love with a common colored girl. He even told me that if I did anything to her he would disown me."

Morgana was surprised by these words. Arthur standing up to father, it was about time.

"And you," he gestured irritably in her direction. "Have no respect for me, neither of you do! And after everything I've done and given you both."

Morgana gritted her teeth. Yes, he had met their materialistic needs but never their emotional ones. And as for what he had done for them ... that was a joke wasn't it!

"Maybe you should seriously start thinking about why both your children no longer have any respect for you."

He glowered, as Morgana knew he would. Doubting Uther would ever listen. He was far too stubborn and proud.

"That's if you still care."

* * *

Gwen wanted nothing more than solitude, the comfort of her own bedroom. It was only an hour's drive from here and she longed for home in that moment. Maybe there everything would fall into place? She would be able to rationalize better, but she had promised Morgana she would see her and Gwen always kept a promise.

She waited till Uther left before entering Morgana's room.

"Gwen," Morgana gasped, looking pleased to see her, but the smile was soon replaced with concern, "Are you okay, you look pale and tense."

Gwen nodded. Morgana so obviously worried, _'why do you hate my so much?' _She inwardly shivered at the image, those words.

But here was Morgana, much like her old self, just as Gwen always hoped she would become again.

"And Emmett?" she quickly asked.

It seemed so strange now to hear him called by that name, jarring almost.

"Good, he's finally come out of his coma."

Some good news at least.

Morgana smiled, looking happier than Gwen had seen her look in a long time.

"And he's alright?"

"He's speech is affected but with time it'll improve, and he remembers who he is."

Which is what mattered the most because sometimes head injury patients didn't always remember who and what they were before.

Morgana clasped her hand.

"I can see him?"

Gwen smiled, "Within a few days, yes."

* * *

The emotional exhaustion was beginning to take its toll. The last thing Gwen had expected was to run into Uther as she left Morgana's room.

It was a shock to see him, even more so now.

'_Why else would Arthur fall in love with someone like you?'_

'_I don't expect someone like you to understand.'_

Gwen brought a dazed hand up to her cheek, as if the slap he had given her then had just happened now.

"You," he gasped, suddenly realizing who she was.

His eyes raked over her and not in a good way. She felt small and diminutive. Her own emotional state at the random memories that had bombarded her in the last hour, something she hadn't, couldn't come to terms with yet.

"What are you doing here?"

She tried to hold her head high. "I work here," she returned, a slight tremor in her voice.

He glowered at her.

"Stay away from my son," he said with quiet venom. Fists clenched to his side.

He was every bit as hateful as he had been before.

Then he brushed past her and Gwen stood there, rooted to spot, shocked. Her heart beating heavily and erratically in her chest. She took a deep breath. He was no man to fool with.

'_She will be burnt at the stake.'_

Hands trembling, she brought them up to her face.

'_No!'_

Arthur?

'_Restrain him!'_

'_You can't do this.'_

* * *

Gwen couldn't even bring herself to see Arthur after that, even though she desperately wanted to. Her emotions were still too raw. She wanted to deny that other life. Refuse to acknowledge it, pretend it had never happened.

The run in with Uther, rattling her even more than she already was.

If she were to see Arthur now ... it would be too much. What if she had some sort of meltdown?

No, it was best she try and get her head around what was happening to her first.

* * *

Merlin was put through a series of examinations and tests before being declared a living miracle.

"I've never seen anything like it," the neurological surgeon said to him with a dazed expression, "You are not possible."

No, Merlin mused, he guessed he wasn't. Still there were just a few problems, his speech and his inability to move the left side of his body.

"Think of it as a stroke." The neurological surgeon had explained. "You've had bleeding on the brain, part of the brain is now damaged, but the brain is a remarkable organ. It has the ability to re-learn."

Did that mean he had to re-learn talking and walking again? How long would that take? What he needed was to get well, and in a hurry because he wanted to see Arthur. This stupid head injury was stopping him from doing just that.

He might have come out of his coma but the tiredness ... all he wanted was to sleep. He couldn't see Arthur in this state as it were. He couldn't even really think straight, that would have to wait, till tomorrow at least.

* * *

Arthur couldn't help the disappointment he felt. Gwen hadn't bothered to see him. He had expected her to visit, sometime later that evening but she hadn't.

Now it was halfway through the morning of the following day and still no sign of her. He was brooding over this when Morgana called by.

"Arthur," she breathed, looking pleased to see him and kissing him on the cheek, her hair tickling his face.

Then she straightened up and looked him over.

"You are so pale," she said.

"You mean more than usual," he quipped.

She smiled.

"Sit down."

"Its better if a I stand, sitting down hurts."

He winced, could only imagine and again he's touched by what she did for him. _Please stay that way, forever._

At least she could stand. He'd give anything for that. His frustration was growing. Three days stuck in bed was something he hated. He wasn't one for being idle. To make matters worse the doctors had informed him that he would need to remain in bed for at least seven days, legs slightly elevated, for the skin grafts to take hold and heal.

"I see you managed to piss father off," she remarked.

"Doesn't take much," he muttered. "Why did he say something to you?"

"Yes, his extreme displeasure that you love someone so common," she scoffed, "But you actually stood up to him."

She looked pleased about that. He managed a smile.

"For what it's worth, not that I think it'll do any good."

His father was, would always be ruthless and he couldn't see it changing.

"You must really love her?" Morgana asked wistfully.

He did, it was almost just as problematic as it had been last lifetime. No doubt his father wouldn't be making it easy for either him or Gwen. More bitter irony.

The longing to talk to Merlin, a voice of reason, washed over him. Merlin would know what to do.

"I saw Gwen yesterday?" Morgana spoke, startling him out of his thought.

He glanced at her.

"She came and visited like she said she would."

Why hadn't she been to see him? He had hoped, looked so forward to seeing her.

"She told me Emmett has come out of his coma," she continued, looking happy.

Yes so he had heard, from everyone else but Gwen and he ignored the sudden twinge of resentment.

* * *

It had been a horrible, sleepless night. Plagued by dreams and not finding any respite till the early hours of the morning when some sound sleep occurred.

Her mobile phone beeping was what woke Gwen. With all that had happened over the last couple of days she hadn't even checked her phone.

Sitting up in bed, opening one bleary eye, she was startled to see it was already ten in the morning.

Gwen grabbed her phone from the bedside table and glanced at it.

Ten messages left by Lance. She had completely forgotten about him and Gwaine. They must be frantic for news and she quickly sent a reply message. _ Both Arthur and Merlin, _scratch that, _both Arthur and Emmett are doing okay, touch and go for Emmett but it's looking much more promising now._

Gwen stared down at her phone as more memories came. _Lance was Lancelot ... Gwaine ... _oh shit. She swallowed, raking a hand through her tumbled curls.

Lancelot, her hands began to shake. She had kissed him. Arthur had seen it. He had been enraged. He had banished her from Camelot.

How could she have done that to him and shame washed over her.

But this is ludicrous, she bitterly laughed to herself. None of it could have happened. She didn't want to believe it, that place, that time ... it didn't exist. It never had.

* * *

Merlin tried to formulate the words on his tongue but they still came out all weird. It was frustratingly annoying. It had only been a day since he came out of his coma so it's not as if he could expect a sudden improvement.

The memories of the here and now had slowly filtered through his mind. He was better able to piece things together. He remembered joining the Army, meeting Gwen on his first day. She, taking him under her wing as she always had done. Morgana was there, the sweet girl she had been when he first met her. He remembered the Cottage, meeting Arthur and Gwaine, none of them remembering and how disappointed he had felt.

Gwen walked into his room.

He looked up at her and a slow smile crossed his face, but Gwen was remembering now. Gaius had told him Arthur also remembered, and just maybe it would all be good again.

She talked. He listened, about all he could do, with writing words on paper from time to time.

Merlin could see she was struggling to come to terms with the memories, that it frightened her. She wanted to deny it had ever happened. He could understand how troubling it would be for her, the grief she had suffered with losing Arthur.

'_It will be alright Gwen,'_ he wrote.

She shook her head. "No, it won't." Pain darkened her eyes.

'_You're not alone, Arthur remembers as well.'_

Her head snapped up, her eyes widening in disbelief.

'_Why don't you talk to him about it?'_

"I can't see him," she whispered, a hint of sadness in her voice. "Not yet."

'_Why not?'_

His gaze searched her face, trying to understand. Deep shadows crossed her eyes.

"I-I'm ... afraid."

Her head lowered.

Merlin sighed. The whole reincarnation thing was a hard thing to understand.

'_Give it time Gwen, you'll see, it'll all be fine.'_

* * *

Why hadn't Gwen visited him? It had been two days!

What the hell had he done wrong now? Was she so afraid of her feelings for him that she had now taken to avoiding him?

He had told her that he loved her. What more reassurance could he give?

His mood had only continued to darken over the following day. The hurt he felt with her not seeing him turning into a deep resentment that gnawed away at him.

Pain made him short tempered and he often took it out on the nurses who tended to him.

He was acting every bit the prat Merlin accused him of being, but he didn't care. The anger and frustration of being laid up in bed getting to him. He couldn't bloody well do a damn thing!

Hell he couldn't even shave his own face and when the nurse came to do it that morning, along with his daily sponge bath, he lost it.

"I'm not an invalid," he snapped at the pretty young nurse.

She flinched.

"I can shave my own damn face just get me a bloody mirror!"

He clenched his jaw as she left the room in search of a mirror, not caring if he was being rude and unreasonable.

He'd had enough.

The nurse returned with a mirror and handed it to him. He all but snatched it from her.

His reflection came as a shock. Not because he really looked all that different and yet ... he did. His face was thinner, speaking of the ordeal he'd been through this last week. His face was even paler than normal, his hair darker now it was shorter and in need of a wash.

Just that he was younger. Not much, what was six years, but still younger. Maybe it was weird because he really didn't know what to expect, his face from before or this one now?

He wasn't a king.

He wasn't really anyone, just some soldier, injured, rendered useless, as his now equally useless legs.

A father he resented, a friend he couldn't see and an ex-wife who avoided him, who didn't remember him. He hadn't even noticed the nurse push the table over his bed.

"Here is the bowl Sir," she spoke, "and shaving cream."

He lowered the mirror, feeling weary and dejected.

The nurse must have noticed his glum expression given her next words.

"I can do it, if you feel you can't."

He glared at her, his anger and frustrating returning.

"I can manage."

Least he could now cope with shaving his own face, that was a start, but about all he could bloody well do.

"Would you like me to wash your hair this morning Sir," the nurse asked, sounding much too kind and accommodating as she removed the bowl from the table.

"No," he returned through gritted teeth.

He didn't give a shit about the state of his hair, or anything else for that matter.

"Well shall we do the sponge bath ..." she began.

"No!" he snapped.

She looked at him startled. He knew he was being unreasonable but he couldn't control it. He just wanted to be left alone to dwell in his own misery and self pity.

"I don't want one."

"But Sir."

"Are you deaf?!" he yelled, "Or just merely stupid?!"

* * *

Gwen took a deep breath outside Arthur's door, and winced at the words he'd just uttered to some other poor nurse. He was beginning to get a reputation as being a difficult patient. Any maybe she was in part to blame, which is why she couldn't put this off any longer. Despite her misgivings and the fragile state of her mind she had to see him, before any more time lapsed by.

Mentally bracing herself for whatever he would throw her way, because no doubt he would be upset with her, she stepped into his room.

He blinked, his eyes raking over her. She could tell by his expression that he wasn't happy to see her and her pulse quickened.

"I can take it from here Annie," she spoke to the young nurse.

The nurse nodded, looking grateful and left the room.

Resentment rolled off him in waves. She could feel it, the air in the room crackled. He was glaring at her.

"Where the hell have you been?"

She didn't flinch, just tried to remain calm and cool. Her heart, however, was pounding a mile a minute.

"If you think I want to see you now you can forget it," he continued harshly.

She refused to let his words affect her. She had to be strong, knowing he was going to be angry and resentful. And she was right.

She swallowed.

"Arthur, if you let me explain ..." she began.

"No, just go away Gwen and leave me the hell alone!" he said bluntly, making her cringe.

He was so angry. Gwen had never seen him this way before. Well, yes, once before when he'd caught her kissing Lancelot. She hastily pushed that memory away, as quickly as it had come. No need to go there. And no way was she going to back down, though seeing him again had rattled her as much as she knew it would.

_Oh Arthur, look at you, lying in that bed, so pale and angry and sad_, she inwardly moaned_._

"Why are you here?" he continued, sounding bitter. "You've made it perfectly obvious that you don't want to see me given I've not seen you these last three days."

She detected the hurt beneath his angry words. She took a deep breath, clenching her nails into the palms of her hand.

"I've come to tell you about Merlin ..." she began.

He was glaring again, any other person would have wilted under that glare, but she wasn't any other person. She was well aware of his temper. He had ever right to be angry with her, but if only he would let her explain.

"I know all about Merlin coming out of his coma," he spat, "Thanks for not bothering to share that with me."

She cringed under the angry accusation in his eyes. She couldn't remember him ever being this harsh with words previously.

"I thought you might like an update?"

"From you," he continued, his voice cold, "No."

He was being so unreasonable. Gwen knew he was lashing out at her because he was hurt, because he was frustrated with being unable to do anything, because he was in pain. Mostly because he felt betrayed that she hadn't bothered to see him, but she had her reasons. The last three days had been tortuous and he, the insufferable prig, wasn't even giving her a chance to explain.

"Why are you just standing there, say something? It's not like you to not put me in my place."

Those words made her heart ache. Yes, how often she had put him in his place.

"Right now Arthur I don't think anything I have to say will snap you out of your temper tantrum," she returned.

He scowled.

"And seeing as you've now effectively scared off all of the other nurses with your spoilt petulant rich boy attitude, treating them as if they are servants, you are stuck with me," she continued, meeting his gaze head on.

He looked taken back for a moment. If he wanted her to put him in his place then she would happily oblige.

"We're not living in the dark ages Arthur, where do you get off treating women or anyone for that matter as if they are less equal to you? And I know you are in pain and frustrated, but that is no excuse for being so rude."

His jaw clenched. But she could tell he was mulling over her words.

"Is that the best you can do?" he returned at length.

"No, that is only the start of it," she quipped.

The corners of his mouth twitched into a brief smile.

Some things just didn't change, Gwen inwardly sighed. She felt the corners of her own mouth lift into a returning smile. Arthur really did still like it when she put him in his place.

"Alright just Gwen, feisty Gwen, you are right. I am a jerk. I am just a rich spoilt kid. Yeah I'm bloody frustrated as hell and I'm also really confused and ..." his voice broke off there.

It was just so damn hard to say the next word.

"Hurt."

There it was said now.

Her face softened.

"I'm sorry," she began, averting her eyes. "I can't even begin to explain why I haven't been to see you Arthur only you must believe it has nothing to do with you and everything to do with me."

He swallowed the painful lump in his throat.

His throat ached as he attempted to control his rampant emotions.

"So why haven't you been to see me?"

She took forever to answer, but the confusion crossing her face only served to make his heart beat at an irregular rate.

"I-I ... oh Arthur," her voice broke off there.

Her hand caressed his face, the longing and sadness in her eyes almost his undoing.

"What is it Gwen? Just tell me."

"Just that ... y-you need to give me time," she stuttered, "I can't explain, I can't yet even believe it."

Believe what? He watched her, confused, trying to understand.

Her hands fluttered, touching his face, caressing him like he was something precious. And he became aware of one thing. She did love him. He could see it reflected clearly in her eyes.

"I've missed you," she murmured fiercely, "So much."

Then her lips descended on his and the agony of the last few days melted away. They kissed with unchecked passion for a long moment. Then Arthur reached up and caught Gwen's head between his palms, one kiss that slowed and then froze into motionlessness. They kept their lips together, not moving, drawing the moment out. When this lingering kiss finally ended, they kept their foreheads balanced lightly together, eyes closed.

Now, finally, he felt emotionally connected to her. It had been a long time coming.

"I'm sorry," he murmured in a husky voice, "I'm sorry for how I spoke to you."

His fingers getting entangled in her curls, seeing the warmth in her eyes, made what resentment he had felt slip away.

"I promise I will not stay away again."

He believed her, even though still not sure as to why she had the last three days.

But she was here now. That's all that mattered.

* * *

Gwen had come to one conclusion. Merlin was the only one to sort Arthur out. And Arthur needed sorting out. He had been often difficult, angry, frustrated over these three days. Not with her, she knew how to sooth him.

She still hadn't told him she remembered. Not knowing how to. Also knowing that what she had to say, _we had a son,_ could possibly upset him.

For now she wanted to remain being blissfully in love and happy, not talk about that past time with him. They were here now, in the present day what did the past matter anymore?

So when Merlin began harassing her that morning about seeing Arthur she relented.

"I'm fine now. Please Gwen."

She gave him a tender look. He still sounded like he'd spent a night on the booze, barely able to formulate his words without them sounded slurred.

But he was also agitated. And that wasn't good for him either.

"I'm going to get in so much trouble for this," she muttered under her breath.

Merlin grinned.

"Just like old times hey Gwen," he quipped.

She helped him into a wheelchair. It really was remarkable how quickly he healed. It had also amazed the medical staff along the way. Gwen now knowing why he healed faster, it was their shared secret.

* * *

He was having another one of those, hell of a day type of day, which was pretty much like every day at the moment.

And he snapped at the nurse without meaning to, regretting it afterwards. He was just about to apologize when a voice spoke from the doorway.

"Still a prat then?"

Arthur couldn't believe his eyes and rubbed them just to make sure he wasn't seeing things, Merlin?

"Alright Arthur, you're not seeing a ghost."

He couldn't express the words he longed to say. So he said the only random thing that came to mind.

"Merlin if you ever pull a stunt like that again ..."

"I know you'll kill me," he finished for him.

He couldn't help the smile crossing his face.

"Yes ... yes I will."

A warm grin crossed Merlin's face making his heart ache. Damn, he thought he'd never see that smile again. Merlin returned to him, whole and intact, though a bit broken.

Tears burned at the back of his eyes such was his joy. After all this time, after everything they had been through together. Now it was as it should be.

Words couldn't even begin to describe what it was he felt. Complete, whole, that was it.

His best friend, the only person that knew him so much better than he even knew himself. The one friend he couldn't, _bear to lose._

Given the expression on Merlin's face, he was thinking the exact same thing and his next words confirmed it.

"You came back Arthur."

Hope and disbelief in his eyes, tears glistening on his dark eyelashes, and by the look of it, he was only just holding it together. His gaze so open and vulnerable that Arthur felt no threat in it, and in himself only stillness, a sense of connectedness, belonging.

Merlin, giving reality to a world he always had need of, more alive and interesting.

"Guess I did," he murmured in a hoarse voice. "Merlin," he all but sighed.

.

.

* * *

.

**A/N: I hope you all enjoyed it. I'm just really excited to finally get to this point in the story. I had actually written this last scene several weeks back. Now I get to write lots of Arthur and Merlin moments, which I am very much looking forward to!**

**It was really difficult writing Gwen's memories returning and which angle to take with it. I hope I did it justice? I'm now faced with the same dilemma on how to write it for Morgana? **

**I'm still not sure on what to do with Uther either. Part of me thinks maybe it's poetic justice he doesn't remember or would it add more drama to the story if he did? I'm open to any feedback or suggestions here?**

**For some reason the spell checker on this fanfiction site doesn't like the word connectedness. As I've set my spell checker to Australian English the word is perfectly legit here. **

**Thanks once again for reading! You would all be pleased to hear I've already started the next chapter and we have a long weekend coming up here in Western Australia. Hopefully that means a quicker update.**

**Cheers!**


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: Right now I'm about to kill the fanfiction site! I have just spent the last hour editing this uploaded chapter and writing my author notes to have it flash out and suddenly ask for my login. Which I did but did it save anything? No! I have such little time as it is! I could almost cry! **

**So everything I did have to say, has been erased and now I have no time left to say it! So very quickly, thanks a heap for all the wonderful feedback to date in regards to the last two questions I posted last chapter and special thanks to icarsuLSY who gave me some great feedback in regards to Morgana remembering. **

**If there are errors, I just simply have no time to fix them twice over. I still have five exams to mark before the morning. I don't think this chapter is as good as I would have liked or maybe that is just me being stressed and too pedantic? I kind of wanted it to be perfect but time just got the better of me.**

**Okay ... I'm taking a deep breath, trying to stay calm ... breath deep.**

**Nah, not working. I've simply drank too much coffee!**

**Enjoy!**

**.**

**.**

* * *

_**Chapter 19.**_

* * *

Arthur had a lot of questions to ask, so many in fact that he didn't even know where to start.

Here was Merlin, looking worse for wear, thinner than ever, but such a sight for sore eyes. He didn't want to get all soppy and sentimental, wasn't his style, but that's exactly how he felt.

"I'll leave the two of you alone," Gwen said with a warm smile, "I'm sure you both have a lot of catching up to do."

The way she said that, it almost made Arthur think she knew more, maybe even remembered something? But no, probably not and he didn't want to get his hopes up.

"Thank you Gwen," he silently whispered.

"Yeah thanks Gwen," Merlin added, glancing up at her.

"I can't leave you for too long, you are not even supposed to be out of bed," she replied, tucking a stray curl behind her ear, "I'm going to get into so much trouble," she muttered, biting down on her lip before leaving the room.

Arthur returned his attention to Merlin and the 20 million questions he wanted to ask, but all he could do was bask in the sight of him. Merlin was really here. The last time he had seen him, the bomb explosion, him remembering, Merlin unconscious, but the time before. That time seemed liked long ago and yet just yesterday. Would Merlin ever stop trying to save his life? And he had had a long time, being bed ridden of late, to recall all of those times when Merlin had saved his life. Everything that Merlin had done. _Contained within this great Kingdom is a rich variety of people with a range of different beliefs. I'm not the only one seeking to protect you._ It was Merlin Gaius had been talking about.

Merlin who never took any credit, humble and yet so wise, powerful yet incredibly tolerant and patient, and he looked at him anew. His eyes raking over him, the plain blue sleeved top he wore, the beanie on his head. It was surreal.

"Weird huh," Merlin spoke and that pretty much summed it up.

He gave a half laugh, "You could say that."

"You and I here, together, like old times," Merlin continued, then frowning, "and not ... not old times anymore, now new times."

"Definitely new, and you look exactly the same."

"So do you,"

"Only you sound like you've spent a night on the booze," Arthur continued wryly.

"Hmm and you're not as fat as you used to be," Merlin glibly returned.

Arthur gave him an incredulous look. "I was never fat!" he protested.

Merlin grinned. The amount of times Merlin had teased him, still did. He couldn't help smiling in return.

"Well here we are, both in a fine pickle now," he muttered, dryly, "Bed ridden and confined to a wheel chair for the time being."

"Alive though." Merlin added.

Trust Merlin to put a positive spin on it. And well yes, they were alive and that then brought back all the questions he wanted to ask, questions that could wait because there was something else more important he had to tell Merlin.

"I've been stuck in this bed for the last eight days. I've had a lot of time to think," he began and paused for a moment, trying to get his emotions in check, "To remember that other lifetime."

He turned his gaze to Merlin. Merlin was looking at him with rapt attention. As if he was expecting a ton of questions and mentally preparing himself for them.

"All those things you did and I had no idea and then I came to the conclusion," he sighed, "I wished I had known, wish you didn't have to lie, though I now know why you did, just that ... if I had known, things could have been different between us, better."

"I'm sorry," Merlin replied in earnest, "I was scared you would see me as nothing more than a monster."

Arthur went still at that word, _monster,_ and it pained him. Yes, his father had taught him that all sorcerers were evil and maybe he had thought of them as monsters ... but this ... it was Merlin. He could never see Merlin as a monster.

"I couldn't bear to see the look on your face, scared you'd reject me as a friend, scared you'd be forced into a position to banish me from Camelot."

He didn't really know what he would have done if he'd found out about Merlin's magic prior to his fatal injury. He had initially, that night when Merlin confessed, felt so betrayed. So many people had lied to him. But Merlin had been the most loyal, always by his side, always there in the toughest of times. He relied upon him far more than he ever would have admitted. Discovering Merlin was a sorcerer had turned his ordered world upside down. But more than anything he didn't want Merlin to change. Slowly over those two days travelling to the Lake of Avalon, he had begun to realise that, yes Merlin had magic, he was a sorcerer, but he was still Merlin.

"At first I felt betrayed, out of everyone you were the most loyal and somehow that was even worse, but I don't think I ever would have banished you," he admitted.

Merlin still looked skeptical.

Raising a hand he rested it on Merlin's shoulder to reassure him.

"Because," he sighed, it wasn't easy to say, he never was good at voicing his feelings, "I needed you, nothing would have been the same without you."

Merlin blinked surprised and then a slow smile crossed his face.

"Okay you don't have to look so smug about it," he muttered, in an attempt to lighten the mood.

It worked. Merlin's smile turned into a grin.

"Not as if we are in Camelot anymore," Arthur continued. "No, now I'm living in the 21st century with a whole other life completely different to the other one, yet also strangely the same in many ways."

"Still with the same father," Merlin added.

"Morgana is my half sister," he returned.

"Still in love with Gwen," Merlin continued.

"Who my father hates," Arthur muttered, glumly.

They exchanged a meaningful look, which brought Arthur to the next question.

"Tell me Merlin, why are we here, why the same people?"

Merlin scratched just under his ear, a puzzled look crossing his face. "I really don't know?"

Arthur looked at him in disbelief. Merlin was supposed to have all the answers.

"Well I did know one day you would come back, just not how or when, or even in what way?"

"How did you know I would?"

"It was part of the prophecy, the prophecy foretold of you Arthur, being the once and future king when Albion's need was at its greatest."

Arthur tried to absorb what Merlin was saying ignoring the skepticism, because he was here. Maybe there had to be some truth in it.

"Albion is the old Latin name for England," he murmured, remembered learning about it in history.

"Albion is supposed to be the uniting of England, a time of peace, which it sort of is now," Merlin added, looking thoughtful, "For so long it wasn't though, always war, so many wars."

"Always will be," Arthur murmured, but not within England itself, least not presently.

So what need was there for him? He wasn't really anyone of much importance if you discounted the fact his father was a huge business tycoon, naturally, owning the post powerful industry in all of Great Britain. One day it would be his, not that he wanted it. Really he just wanted to live a normal life. There were times, when he'd glance over at Guinevere, find himself wishing they could just take a holiday, the two of them, with no responsibility. But it had never happened. She had to adjust to going from a servant to a Queen and he had a Kingdom to rule. There was never much time for anything.

"You never know what the future holds," Merlin spoke, the words holding so much meaning, "No one does."

Arthur's gaze met his, searchingly.

"I'm not a king anymore." Not that that was a bad thing.

"And I'm not a servant," Merlin added.

Arthur smiled, recalling Merlin's words from long ago, '_I always thought that if things had been different, we would have been good friends'_.

A lump formed in his throat, he glanced at Merlin.

"I guess we can be friends after all," he murmured.

Merlin smiled, he remembered, Arthur could see it. The next words touched him more than he ever would admit.

"We always were."

'_I also do this because I'm your friend.'_

Damn stupid lump in his throat, stupid tears that burned the back of his eyes. He didn't, hadn't ever really deserved Merlin's friendship and loyalty. But how he had always yearned for it, always found himself drawn to the young man that believed so much in him. How could he not?

Even when everyone else had given up hope, he had personally ridden out with Gwaine to search for him, because the thought of Merlin gone, was a thought he couldn't live with. Merlin would come back to him. Merlin had to come back to him. He didn't care how long it took. He would find him! He still remembered how it had felt when the rock-fall happened, separating him from the injured Merlin, how it felt as if his heart had been ripped out. How, that not even for one moment would he believe Merlin was dead. He couldn't be. Not possible. Merlin would come back. Merlin always came back. He wasn't gone. He had refused to believe it, wouldn't ... believe it, couldn't believe it.

"Y-You," he stammered, "you made the rocks fall?"

He was now pointing a finger at Merlin.

"Yes."

Arthur's vision blurred with tears he'd fought so hard to hold back. He clenched his hand into a fist.

"To protect me?" he continued, his voice sounding hoarse in his ears.

"Yes."

He swallowed the lump in his throat.

"Merlin you have to stop doing it."

"Doubt it," he returned stubbornly.

Arthur quietly studied him, a host of emotions coursing through him, somehow knowing that telling Merlin what to do was kind of futile.

"If I was to ask you any question now you would tell me the whole truth?"

"Yes, Arthur, yes I would, the time for lies is over."

So it was. A shaky smile crossed his face, and his hand rested on Merlin's shoulder.

"Glad you waited," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

"You took your bloody time though," Merlin quipped, though he could see tears in his eyes.

Arthur managed a brief laugh.

A look of shared understanding passed between them. _One day you will learn, Arthur. One day you will understand ... just how much they have done for you._

That day had come and Arthur felt a deep contentment. Gaius was right, he had learned. He now understood just exactly how much Merlin had done for him.

Gwen walked into the room. Merlin glanced at her.

"Five more minutes Gwen?" he begged.

Arthur noticed the worried look on her face. As much as Arthur didn't want Merlin to go it was a matter of having to. He could tell Merlin was beginning to tire quickly. The last thing he wanted or needed was for Merlin to have some relapse. Gwen had risked enough to bring him here.

"Plenty of time for talking tomorrow, and the next," he said to Merlin, "Not like we are in any state to be going anywhere."

Gwen flashed him a grateful smile. The sort of smile that made his whole body heat up by ten degrees. She always did have that affect over him. Their eyes locked and held. The warmth in her eyes took his breath away. The last few days he would often catch her watching him, a wistful look in her eyes and it would puzzle him.

"Yeah, okay, I am tired," Merlin sighed with reluctance.

"I better get him back to his bed before we are caught," she spoke.

"You will see me later?" he asked her.

She nodded. "Yes."

His gaze rested on Merlin.

'_You don't have to sacrifice yourself. I will take your place. What is the life of a servant compared to that of a prince?'_

He swallowed hard, once, then twice. "Glad you're okay Merlin." It really didn't sum up a fraction of what he felt. The stupid idiot would have done anything to save him. That unfound loyalty made his heart ache. He didn't deserve it.

Merlin nodded, a slow smile tilting up the corners of his mouth, "Yeah, me too."

* * *

Merlin felt the happiest he had in a very long while. Arthur remembered everything. It was just like old times but even better. No more lies, no more titles, no more pretense.

He could be himself. Something he had always longed for, something that had been denied him.

"You look happy," Gwen remarked as she pushed his wheelchair back to his room.

"I am, ridiculously happy."

She smiled.

"It's the calmest I've seen Arthur too," she continued. "You have that affect over him, he needs you."

"He needs you too," he added.

She didn't answer. He inwardly sighed, Gwen still so obviously wanting to deny that time? What was she so afraid of? There was no way Arthur would ever let her go or hurt her. Surely she must know that?

"I couldn't help the way the two of you looked at each other," he continued.

"Of course I love him, I'm not ever going to stop loving him," she murmured, so softly he could only just hear.

"You haven't told Arthur yet?" He glanced over his shoulder at her.

She slowly shook her head, averting her eyes.

"No."

"Why?"

"I-I ... just can't."

Neither had she asked him anything about that time, what had happened after she had died, what had happened to Audric, her son. He didn't want to press her about it, knew she was struggling with the memories. It wasn't something she could keep running from. The sooner she dealt with it the sooner she could get past it.

"I can't risk losing him," she spoke in a small voice, "I just couldn't go through that grief again."

He well remembered it. The grief, the way she was so strong to the outside world, but often a mess behind closed doors. Years passed by, time healed all wounds, but it also left scars. Hers ran deep. Arthur didn't have to go through that. He hadn't had to live on without her.

"I understand," he murmured, "but Gwen, you have this second chance now ..."

"In which he still could die, almost did just die from that explosion," she exclaimed.

"But he didn't."

She went quiet and he didn't press it any further. In fact he was relieved to see his room and get back into bed. He felt shattered, completely exhausted. He didn't know that just a short trip out of bed would do this to him. It was frustrating.

Gwen made him comfortable as she always did. He could barely keep his eyes open but still managed to grab her hand before she left.

"It's only a matter of time Gwen before Arthur asks me about you, what happened to you and I told him I wouldn't lie anymore."

She nodded. "Of course you'll have to tell him."

He fought to keep his eyes open.

"I-I think you s-should be the one to tell him about your s-son, his s-son."

* * *

Merlin's eyes drifted shut and Gwen sat there in painful silence as memories of her son swamped her, the sudden tightness in her chest, making it hard to breathe.

_She would often find her gaze resting on him. Audric, now a grown man and so many times she would see Arthur in him. The way he stood, the way he addressed the crowd with that same convincing strength. He had a way with words. The way he would sit in quiet contemplation. Never one to rush in and speak, he was thoughtful, kind and strong. Her only regret when she died was that she had never lived to see him find love with a woman. Had he? _

Gwen blinked and straightened up. Her gaze fell on Merlin, now fast asleep.

He would know. Merlin was there.

She swallowed, but did she really want to know what had happened? Could she handle hearing it? After much thought Gwen came to the painful realization that, yes, she had to know. And when Merlin woke up she would ask him.

Right now she had a sudden desire to see Arthur, just to see his face and know he was real, not just a phantom to be suddenly and cruelly snatched away from her.

Gwen left Merlin's room and quickly walked to Arthur's. It wasn't so far now Merlin was out of intensive care.

"There you are Gwen," the Matron called.

Gwen stopped and turned to face her.

"Can you give Arthur his sponge bath this morning?"

"I thought Lucy was tending to him today?" she replied.

"Well he was in a right mood earlier this morning and she requested to change patients."

Gwen was now starting to get the picture that Arthur was being deliberately difficult just for that reason alone, so that no other nurse would want to nurse him and she would be stuck with him. A slow smile crossed her face and she shook her head.

"You need to change his bandages, check the skin grafts, if all is good he should be able to get out of bed and let's hope that puts him in a better mood."

Gwen nodded.

"Yes ma'am."

Gwen was all set to tell Arthur that she also remembered, but when she walked into his room, he smiled so warmly, making her toes curl, the words faltered on her lips. How could she tell him now? She didn't want to upset him. It's seldom he smiled like that these days. He looked so happy, seeing Merlin had been good for him as she knew it would be. What she had to say could wait.

"Ah Guinevere, I mean Gwen," he quickly amended.

She really didn't mind if he called her Guinevere. Now that she remembered but it still sounded odd. Odd in a nice way though. It made her feel nostalgic for a bygone time.

"How's Merlin?" he asked.

"Asleep," she returned, fetching the green bowl from the attached bathroom.

"Thank you for doing that and risking your neck," he called after her.

"Well Merlin wouldn't stop harassing me."

She filled up the bowl with warm water before carrying it to his bed, placing it on his bedside table.

"Ah time for a sponge bath," he smiled widely. "Are you doing it today?"

She looked at him shrewdly.

"Hmm seems that way, Lucy can't put up with you any longer and now I have to do it," she quipped.

"Yeah well," he began, running a hand up the back of his neck, trying to look guilty but failing.

"I might have been a bit short with her."

Her hands rested on her hips.

"Let me see, it was some ploy to get me instead?"

A sheepish look crossed his face.

"Okay, I confess but can you blame me? Of course I'm going to want you to do it."

She raised an eyebrow. "I thought you could do it all by yourself now?"

"I can, just that it's hard to reach my back."

She couldn't help the smile crossing her face. Obviously taking that as an incentive, he raised a hand and lightly cupped her chin with his fingers.

"I think it might need a massage as well."

He brushed a thumb against her bottom lip. She felt warmth crawl up her neck and into her cheeks.

"Just Gwen," he murmured and if he didn't stop soon nothing would get done.

"You don't play fair," she whispered, her voice husky, betraying her attraction towards him.

"Around you, I can't help myself," he said, gazing tenderly at her, before drawing her face closer to his, and good lord but so help her god she was going to kiss him.

Lost in the warmth of his gaze, she always did love his eyes, the way they expressed his emotions.

But she couldn't do this, what if they are caught? She quickly pulled back.

"I'm on duty," she hastily said, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "If we're caught all hell will break loose."

"Sorry, I didn't think."

He raked a hand through his hair.

"It's alright, I know it's hard but it's just the way it has to be," she sighed, "You want to take your top off."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Are you asking me to get undressed?"

She rolled her eyes and snorted.

"At least you get to see my hot body, whilst I still have one, before my muscles turn to flab from lack of exercise." A disgruntled frown crossed his face at the thought.

A smile twitched at her lips.

"Who say's its hot," she shot back teasingly.

He managed a brief dry laugh. "Funny." She was joking right?

* * *

The feel of her hands gliding over his back felt so damn nice. It made him daydream about all the moments they had shared in the bedroom, that other lifetime. She always did have such a sensual way of touching him, and maybe he should start thinking about other things given the sudden response of a particular part of his anatomy. Well at least it still worked; kind of a relief actually. He wasn't totally incapacitated.

"Arthur?" she spoke, interrupting his train of thought.

He glanced at her, and tugged the bed sheet further up his waist. Not that she would see anything or could possibly know, but then he noticed the amusement in her eyes.

Right, it wasn't the dark ages. It was the 21st century, women were not so chaste, she damn well did know. Now he felt both awkward and embarrassed. His face reddened.

He could tell she was trying not to laugh.

"You're good at the whole back rubbing thing," he stammered.

And it had been a hell of a long time since he last had sex. Even longer with her, over a thousand years.

"I'm flattered," she cheekily grinned, before removing the bowl from the bedside table.

She went into the attached bathroom to empty it. It gave Arthur the chance to get his wayward thoughts in order.

By the time she re-emerged it was all good again.

She found a clean top in his drawer, he put it on. She also pulled out a pair of clean boxer shorts.

"You need help with these," she quipped over her shoulder.

Oh so she had a sense of humour. He shook his head and smiled.

Once he was appropriately dressed she began to remove the bandages on his legs, startling him.

"What are doing?" he suddenly asked.

"Changing the dressings on your legs," she replied. "If the skin grafts are taking well it's possible you may even get out of bed today."

He didn't want her to see the state of his legs, call it manly pride or whatever but still.

"Do you have to?"

She raised an eyebrow.

"I've already seen your legs Arthur. I was in theater when they brought you in. I was the one to initially tend to the burns."

He swallowed. Be as that may, he happened to be unconscious at the time. Not like it was going to matter to him, unlike now.

"There is no need to be so proud," she murmured, "It doesn't bother me, I'm not about to recoil in horror."

Of course she wouldn't. He didn't think that for a moment. She was strong. Incredibly so and he admired her more than any other woman he'd ever met.

"It's not like you to be so vain?" she said with a slightly amused smile.

"I-I'm not," he began in protest.

The look on her face told him she didn't believe him. She always had been shrewd.

"Okay, well maybe a bit, because it's not a pretty sight."

"I've seen a lot worse, you should just be grateful you still have legs."

She was so matter of fact at times, not one for indulging self pity.

"I am grateful still doesn't mean I want you to see them."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm a nurse Arthur."

"Yes, I had noticed - nurse Gwen," he muttered, placing a strong emphasis on 'nurse' and 'Gwen'.

One look at her face and he could tell she wasn't taking no for an answer. He inwardly sighed.

Dammit, he would just have to swallow his pride and his so called vanity, what was left of it.

"Guess I have no choice," he muttered, folding his arms.

She had the most capable hands, practical, the nails kept short and neat. No nonsense Gwen and his curiosity about her, this life she now had, who she was intensifying.

He couldn't remember ever wanting to know everything about her last lifetime. She was Gwen, the servant, sweet, loyal, a kind heart and also strong. Not afraid to speak her mind. But this Gwen, she was a bit different to before. He couldn't quite put a finger on it.

He resisted from touching the loose curl by her temple, from touching her in general. Last thing he wanted was to get her in trouble and then they wouldn't let her near him again. His eyes rested on her face but she didn't even flinch at the sight of his legs. She probably really had seen some gruesome injuries that made his injuries pale into insignificance. Maybe that is what was different about her, an inner strength, as if she had lived and suffered some. Then his eyes rested on his legs, they looked better than they had a week ago. The swelling was beginning to go down in his right lower leg, still looked gross, just not as gross.

"Well what's the verdict nurse Gwen?"

She smiled at his choice of words.

"It's looking good."

"Does that mean I might finally get out of this bed?"

It would mean some freedom, at long last. He could finally get to see outside these same four walls he'd been staring at for the last eight days.

"I think it does, I just need to get confirmation from the doctor first."

"Then I can see Merlin?"

"Yes, but you are not to tire him out with a million questions."

He frowned at her words. "Why would I have a million questions?"

She pulled herself up with a start but not before he saw the brief panic in her eyes. What was with that? And the way she said Merlin's name now, as if it came so easily to her. Did she possibly remember something?

"Gwen?"

"Oh look here is the doctor," she returned, as the entourage of medical people strolled into his room to do their doctor's round.

She looked greatly relieved, raising his suspicions.

She was acting, he could almost swear, flustered. There had to be a reason for that.

* * *

When Merlin woke up it was to see Morgana sitting in the chair by his bed. It took a moment for him to get his bearings. Morgana was here and he sat up startled. His head spun, he'd sat up too quickly.

"You alright Emmett," she quickly spoke, sounding worried, both her hands resting on his shoulders to steady him.

That's right he was Emmett, to her. She didn't remember, thank god. He didn't think he could face that right now.

"I'm sorry I startled you?"

He opened his eyes, now that the world had steadied again and gazed up at her. She looked so sweet, lovely in fact.

"I was having a weird dream at the time," he replied, his words sounding even more slurred than normal and just great.

He noticed the deep concern in her eyes. She cared about him. Like she once had done and for a moment it felt as if a burden had been lifted from his shoulders.

"I just wanted to see you before I returned to Camp Bastion, make sure you were alright and you look ..."

"Like death warmed up," he finished for her.

A slow smile crossed her mouth.

"I'm afraid so."

"Hmm, well you are just catching me on a bad day," he quipped, with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"Oh Emmett," she sighed, mixed with a light laugh and she caught his hand in hers.

Much to his astonishment she kissed his fingers, before pressing his hand against her cheek. He saw the shadows in her eyes, she looked troubled.

His finger lightly brushed her smooth cheek.

"Are you alright Morgana?"

"Of course," she quickly replied, a forced smile crossing her face.

She wasn't though, he could tell. He knew her well enough. She had lowered both their hands to the bed, but still had hold of his. He lightly squeezed her fingers.

"You can tell me you know."

She shot him a grateful look. "You have enough worries of your own."

He noticed the dark rings under her eyes. She hadn't been sleeping, just like before. Was she still troubled by dreams? He wanted to ask, but it was too much. He was too tired, couldn't go there yet. When he was a bit better, he would ask her. Knowing it was important this time around that he didn't let her down.

"You have to go back to Camp Bastion?" he asked.

"Stupid isn't it, I only have three weeks before R&R, but still rules are rules and the only reason I've been allowed to stay eight days is because I donated some of my skin for Arthur's skin grafts."

He was shocked for a moment. She did what? Really, but then she was the old Morgana, the girl with the kind heart that would do anything for anyone, even risk helping him back in his home village to fight bandits.

He had liked her then, a lot.

"I should go, you look tired," she softly spoke.

"No, stay, just ... you talk, I'll listen, tell me everything that's happened to you lately."

She talked, and talked in her soft tone. It was soothing, like a healing balm almost. It wasn't long before his eyes slowly beginning to droop, till he could no longer fight the tiredness. His eyes closed, her voice faded away into the distant.

The last thing he felt, was her lips on his cheek.

"Get better," she murmured, "For me."

* * *

It was slow going trying to get in that wheel chair. He thought it would be easy. It was anything but! Arthur was determined to do it. He could ignore the pain, the dizziness. It would get better, just he hadn't been out of bed for a week. It was to be expected the nurse reassured him. And where the hell had Guinevere gone?

Perhaps better she wasn't here to see him struggle. His manly pride had been dented enough for one day.

He felt every bit the invalid he'd now become. If Merlin was well, he'd be begging him to heal him right now, not that he could anyway, not without it looking the hell suspicious to the doctors. Merlin would still have to keep his magic hidden. No one believed in such things anymore. That then got him thinking if Merlin had healed him before?

He remembered being poisoned. Everyone had praised Gaius for it, but what if it had been Merlin that had healed him? No physician, no matter how good, could have undone the poison. Yet he never thought to question it. Nobody had.

Then there was the time he had the arrow in his back, which Merlin had dismissed as nothing more than a mere bruise, was that him too? Had he healed him? He had suspected Merlin wasn't telling him everything, but then trying to get answers out of Merlin when he didn't want to give them was impossible. The young man could be particularly reticent when he wanted to be.

Eventually Arthur managed to get in that damn wheel chair, gripped either side tightly till his knuckles grew white. The dizziness began to subside, the pain lightened and his breathing began to even out. This wasn't so bad.

Gwen walked into the room and he glanced up at her.

"You did it," she exclaimed.

He was determined to be somewhat mobile again. So he could see Merlin, feel like a normal human being again.

"Yes," he breathed, about all he felt capable of.

"Can I see Merlin now?"

Her face fell, and instant worry hit him. What now?

"He's asleep," she replied, chewing on her bottom lip, "I'm afraid that getting him out of bed this morning was something I shouldn't have done."

That's okay, not so bad, Merlin was just sleeping.

"I think we should let him rest Arthur."

He tried to bite back his disappointment.

"It's alright," he muttered gruffly, "There's always tomorrow."

Her face brightened a fraction.

"In the meantime why don't I wheel you outside into the garden so you can get some fresh air and sun?"

He nodded and managed a feeble smile, not wanting her to see his disappointment.

She wheeled him down the corridor. For the first time he actually was getting to see outside his room. The hustle and bustle of the busy ward making his head spin. The world still did exist outside of his four walls.

It was a relief to finally be outside. Just the feel of the sun on his face, the fresh breeze ruffling the short strands of his hair felt damn good. He closed his eyes, soaking in the faint warmth of the sun.

When he next opened his eyes it was to find Gwen watching him, a strange longing and wistfulness in her eyes.

"What is it Gwen?" he asked.

She quickly straightened up, seeming guarded. "Just you, you look so content."

Is that all it really was? Why did he have the gut feeling that she wasn't telling him everything?

* * *

Arthur was determined to get back into that wheelchair the following morning. It was a tad easier than it had been the day before.

He had to seriously harass the nurse to take him to see Merlin. And just his luck to get stuck with a battle axe that morning. Gwen was on an afternoon shift that day. He had told her to sleep in because she looked in need of a decent night sleep.

There had been a particular type of sadness in her eyes that had confounded him.

Everything about her was a puzzle at present. Now he was keen to talk to Merlin about it, because Merlin would know. Merlin knew everything. Not only that but he had to make sure Merlin was okay. If Merlin coming to see him had weakened him then he would go to him.

The nurse eventually relented. He was rather proud of himself. He could still defeat a battle axe with a few well chosen words, and lot's of never ending nagging. Pointing a sword at her throat would have been an easier option, one he could have used once upon a time, now words became a weapon. _Do you know who my father is? _Not his proudest moment, but he was prepared to swallow his pride to get what he wanted. And he really wanted to see Merlin. Besides the old battle axe was being totally unreasonable leaving him little option.

* * *

It was Merlin's turn to be surprised. He looked at Arthur stupefied for a moment before a wide grin crossed his face.

"Arthur you're up and about."

In his excitement, he waved a hand and promptly knocked a glass of water off the bedside table.

Water splashed over Arthur's top and he glanced down at it bemused. Some things really just didn't change. The glass had smashed on the floor.

"Least we don't have to worry about stepping on it," Merlin quipped, "Neither one of us can walk."

"That'll be coming out of your wage," the battle axe nurse ranted.

Arthur exchanged a glance with Merlin.

"You got stuck with big Bertha," he silently whispered.

The battle axe had a name? The same said battle axe stormed out of the room to get a dustpan and broom.

"Wow you must have really pissed off all the other nurses to get her," he continued, a mischievous glint in his eye, and if Merlin hadn't knocked the glass over, he'd be pouring it over his head right now.

"I see you are back to being quick witted this morning," he remarked sarcastically, however seeing Merlin so warmed his heart. It meant he was getting better.

His eyes rested on the uneaten plate of food on the table and he frowned.

"You haven't finished your breakfast," he pointed out.

Merlin grimaced. "I wasn't hungry?"

"You need to eat it."

Merlin shoved a piece of cold toast in his mouth and pulled a face.

"All of it."

He was painfully thin.

"If you hope to get better then you need to eat Merlin."

"I think we've had this conversation before Arthur."

"And as usual you never do as you are told."

Arthur being over protective, Merlin mused. Like the big bossy older brother role he played in the other lifetime. Often taking the brunt of his frustrations out on him, yet, strangely he was also the person Arthur went too when needing advice or someone to listen.

The nurse returned, bending down and sweeping up the broken glass, muttering under her breath, before leaving again.

Merlin glanced at Arthur.

He looked troubled, Merlin observed as he munched on the cold toast. He waited for him to speak, knowing he would eventually. There were so many things to be discussed and where to start, which is why it was better for Arthur to begin. But Arthur was taking his time, looking lost in thought.

"What's wrong?" Merlin finally prompted as the silence stretched, hating the silence. It made him feel edgy.

"Gwen puzzles me," Arthur slowly began, "Sometimes I think she knows something, but then ... she hasn't said anything about remembering the other time."

Arthur looked at him. "Why doesn't she remember?"

She does, only she can't admit to it, he felt like saying.

"Well," he began, choosing his words carefully, "You have to remember Arthur that you had died not losing her, but she lived on, without you for 30 years."

A started look crossed Arthur's face.

"She lived for 30 years?"

"Yes."

"And you were there?"

"I promised you I would look after her and I did, to the best of my ability."

Merlin noticed the turbulent emotions reflected in Arthur's eyes.

"How did she die?" he eventually asked.

"Well in those days it didn't have a name, but today we call it cancer."

"You couldn't heal her?"

He hung his head, pain from those days engulfing him. It had hurt, losing Gwen.

"I couldn't cure something I had no knowledge off, plus I'm not the best at healing spells."

Arthur's eyes widened in surprise at that bit of news, "I thought you were supposed to be the greatest sorcerer to ever walk the earth?"

Merlin merely sighed and shook his head before glancing back at Arthur, slightly bemused.

"Did Gaius tell you that?"

Arthur shrugged nonchalantly. "He might have mentioned it."

Merlin had to wonder what else Gaius had told Arthur? The older man would always come and visit after his shift was over. He would sit by his bed and they would talk about old days, philosophize about the current world. Merlin enjoyed those moments spent with Gaius.

"I had plenty of time to get better at it," he lightly returned.

"You're not immortal anymore?"

Merlin shook his head. "I'm not. I think it has something to do with you returning."

He could see Arthur was deep in thought, again. A puzzled frown denting his forehead, before smoothing out, as some sort of realization had taken hold.

Arthur's eyes met his. "I should have known something was different about you," he murmured, pointing a finger at him.

"How was it you survived the Dorocha when no one else had?"

Merlin hadn't thought about that, he had just put it down to his magic.

"Gaius had told me that no mortal person could survive the Doracha's touch," he continued, still waving a finger in his face, "which means you had to be immortal."

Merlin was impressed. Arthur, in this lifetime, was a lot more switched on and smarter.

"I didn't know I was immortal then," he admitted, "I didn't find that out till I was about 30."

"How did you find out?"

"A comment Gwen made, she said I hadn't aged."

He swallowed, recalling that moment, the start of his angst of a whole other kind.

"You can't begin to imagine how glad I am to be mortal again."

Arthur could only begin to imagine how much hell it must have been for him to watch people he cared about always dying? Seeing the pain so clearly reflected in Merlin's eyes. It wasn't right that he had to suffer so much. Though he was internally grateful Merlin had been there for Gwen. _One thing. Look after Guinevere, I want her to be happy in her life. She deserves that._

Had Gwen been happy? He had to know.

"Gaius said he lived ten years after I died," he murmured, "He said Gwen had been Queen."

Merlin glanced at him and nodded.

"She was a great Queen. You would have been proud of her."

Of course she would have been, that he didn't doubt. He was curious now, suddenly wanting to know more about her 30 year reign. Yet, apprehensive at the same time, knowing that what Merlin might say could also hurt.

"She's the strongest woman I've ever known," Merlin continued, but Arthur detected the hesitation in his voice.

"But?" he prompted, knowing there was more.

"Losing you ... well she grieved naturally, for a long time," Merlin's voice broke off there, the pained expression on his face making him feel uneasy.

"She built a wall around her heart Arthur."

Did he really want to hear this? Something akin to trepidation gripped him.

"She was really never the same."

What did Merlin mean by that? How wasn't she the same?

"And she never married?" he asked.

"No, said she'd rather be alone."

He couldn't bear to hear anymore. It hurt ... too much, hearing this, and he was never there for her, not that he could be and somehow that made it all so much worse.

"She loved you with all of her heart, as you know ..."

Arthur held up a hand to stop him. "No Merlin," his voice hoarse, "I can't hear anymore."

"What does it matter now Arthur," Merlin sighed, "It was another lifetime ago?"

"But she still bears the same wounds, the same hurt." He took a deep breath. "Sometimes I see it in her eyes."

Merlin fell silent, waiting for Arthur to make the next move. He could see he was struggling to come to terms with what he had just told him. He had gone strangely quiet. For so long that Merlin wasn't sure on what to say or if he should just wait for Arthur to speak.

When Arthur finally asked the next question it totally threw Merlin for a sixer.

"You were never at the tavern were you?"

He couldn't answer straight away, still surprised by the sudden turn. It wasn't until he looked up to find Arthur staring at him, waiting for an answer that he cleared his throat.

"Ah, no, that was Gauis' stock standard excuse he gave you when you came looking for me in one of your rages, demanding where I was," Merlin explained and finished with a ghost of a smile.

"I was never in a rage," he began in protest, "okay, maybe sometimes."

"Sometimes?" Merlin exclaimed.

"I'm sorry about the way I treated you."

Again Arthur looking sad, Merlin inwardly sighed. Discussing old memories was more painful than he ever thought it would be.

"You weren't to know." He softly said.

Arthur still looked wretched, his shoulders slumped.

"I'm surprised you just didn't hex me whenever I pissed you off," he muttered.

Merlin gave him a quick smile. "What's to say I didn't?"

Arthur's eyes widened in sudden surprise, "You used magic on me?" he gasped.

"Sometimes yeah, especially when you were being a prat."

Arthur couldn't believe it. Merlin had dared to use magic on him. Just that thought alone was enough to drag him out of his melancholy thoughts.

"Or when you made fun of me," Merlin continued, "Like that time in front of the nights and you said, _I'm gonna fight here like Merlin_, remember it?"

Yes. He had ended up, face first, in a stinky pile of mud.

"I guess you never wondered how the sword suddenly fell out of your hand?"

Merlin tilted his head to the side as if savoring the memory.

"You got hit in the stomach with a mace and fell forward into a pile of mud."

Merlin was responsible for that!

"Oh that was hilarious."

Arthur folded his arms, eyes narrowed.

"I kept you braying long after you needed to because it was just too much fun."

Merlin chuckled to himself. Arthur tried to look unimpressed, but he couldn't help the small smirk crossing his face. Yeah he had deserved it but he now he was beginning to see Merlin in a whole new light, he was in fact kind of sneaky.

"What else?"

He wanted to hear it, steer around the other more serious issues for the time being, keep it light. It had been painful enough to hear about Gwen. And given the ordeal they had both been through there was plenty of time later down the tract for heavier discussions. Right now he didn't know if he could face them.

"I don't think there's really anything more."

Arthur didn't believe him.

"How about the time my trousers just happened to fall down?"

Merlin grinned. "Yeah that was me. I was trying to get the key from your belt."

"Why?"

"I, uh, kind of helped Borden steal the Triskelion from the vaults so we could get the dragon egg."

Arthur gave him an incredulous look.

"What!"

"Kilgharrah said I had to do it, it was the last dragon egg. He didn't want to be the last of his kind anymore."

Arthur raised an eyebrow.

"Kilgharrah?"

"That's his name."

"The dragon I was supposed to have killed?"

"Yeah that's the one."

"Which I obviously didn't?"

"Ah no I became the last Dragonlord and controlled him."

Balinor was Merlin's father, Gaius had told him that.

"You stole the dragon egg!"

"Ah yeah."

"Right from under my nose?"

A brief smile crossed Merlin's face and he nodded.

"And you hatched it?"

"Yeah."

Merlin had this whole other life going on that he had had absolutely no idea about.

"I don't believe it," he muttered and pointed a finger in Merlin's face, "You were sneaky."

He was also extremely clever. Something he had never thought Merlin to be. Sure he knew he could be uncannily wise, unusually so and it used to surprise him.

"I named her too," Merlin continued, "I called her Aithusa."

Arthur was momentarily captivated by the sudden radiated glow on Merlin's face. He obviously loved dragons. There was so much he didn't know about him. It was like making new discoveries about an old friend you thought you had known; Merlin a riddle, a riddle that he was slowly beginning to unravel. And it wasn't at all unpleasant, if anything, surprisingly refreshing.

Arthur went to shift and bit back a pained gasp, causing Merlin to stare at him with concern before his eyes rested on his injured leg.

"Looks bad," he murmured.

"Yeah, well," he muttered, gripping either side of the wheel chair tightly, "I'll live."

He watched on as Merlin raised his right hand towards his leg. He'd seen him do that before, the hairs standing up on the back of his neck and arms.

"What are you doing?" he began.

"I can fix it," Merlin replied.

Arthur's eyes widened.

"Oh no you don't!" he exclaimed, pushing Merlin's hand away.

Merlin frowned.

"You're not allowed to use magic," he stated.

"What?"

He folded his arms and stared pointedly at him.

"You need your magic to heal yourself."

"I'm fine now," he scoffed.

But Arthur wasn't buying it.

"Fine, that's why every second word you utter is slurred," he gruffly pointed out, "And that's why," he continued picking up Merlin's left arm and dropping it, "You can't use that arm."

The arm dropped heavily.

"Oww!" Merlin protested.

"That's why you are still paralyzed down the left side of your body and are confined to a wheel chair, because you are fine!"

The young man scowled.

"You've been talking to Gaius haven't you?"

"Yes!"

Merlin rubbed his left arm.

"And he said for you to use any magic would be detrimental to your own health and I'm not about to risk anything happening to you again," Arthur continued and raised a hand to cut Merlin off.

"I saw that the magic you used to kill the insurgents did a lot of damage to you, you were conscious and then you were not and then you nearly died and I'm your commanding officer and you will, for once in your life Merlin, do as you are told!"

Merlin opened and then closed his mouth. Arthur wasn't done with him yet.

He pulled the beanie off Merlin's head. Seeing the nasty gash, now sutured, reminding him of the ordeal he had been through. How very close he had come to dying. He wasn't immortal this time around.

"You're still human Merlin and that makes you as vulnerable as the rest of us."

"Yeah but I still have magic."

He's not impressed.

"You are currently banned from using it," he ordered.

Merlin gave him a mock salute. "Yes Sire."

Arthur frowned.

"How did Gaius put up with you for all of those years?"

Merlin just grinned. "Half the time he didn't know what I was up to."

Arthur rolled his eyes, not at all surprised. He was beginning to come to the sinking realization that trying to stop Merlin using his magic would be no easy task. He was a law unto himself. And Arthur wouldn't have it any other way. Even if it meant Merlin would no doubt at times frustrate him as much as he always had done.

Merlin, would always be, Merlin.

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**A/N: I hope it was okay? It was kind of hard to write and as much as I like parts of it I still think I could have written it better. I think all the marking I've done of late has clouded my judgement somewhat. I just can't think straight :)**

**Thanks also to the guest reviewers. I can't reply to your reviews but I want to let you know I really appreciate them.**

**Okay I'm saving right now before anything else can go wrong!**

**P.S. Reviews are always loved and very much appreciated. Okay hitting save button again. Kind of getting paranoid with it now :)**


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: Thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews to date. I am constantly amazed by how many people are following this story, how much you all seem to still be enjoying it. You can't imagine how happy that makes me! The reviews do spur me on to try and upload a chapter once a week on the Wednesday. I struggled with time this last week and as a result I'm surprised I even managed to finish this chapter on the Wednesday! That said I do feel as if I may have rushed the end just a tad? I hope it still reads okay. I thought about leaving it for another day but then I have so much marking to do and school reports due in this Friday that if I didn't upload it now I would fall even further behind on my marking. **

**I also researched the Arthurian legends for several hours over the weekend and realized that it would have been 1,400 odd years that Merlin would have waited and not 1,200. As such I have amended that this chapter and will edit it in previous chapters when I get the chance. Growing up in Australia I really don't know a great deal about the Arthurian legends, hence my research, so you will have to excuse my ignorance!**

**As for the first scene of this chapter between Arthur and Gwen all I can say is that story went in a direction I hadn't planned. It doesn't detract from the story at all, just that I hadn't intended for what happened to happen. Only to stay that that particular scene seemed to write itself.**

**That said, enjoy!**

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_**Chapter 20.**_

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Merlin was dozing. He felt content for the first time in a long while, content in the knowledge that Arthur remembered and it was all good. He was no longer immortal, maybe it meant he could live like a normal person, something that had been denied him for the last one thousand, four hundred and thirty years. Being immortal had meant never allowing himself to get too close or attached to people, though he had, often enough, ended up getting attached. His nature not one for allowing him to shut himself away from the world for any great length of time, he was always drawn to people, or a cause.

'_Promise me',_ her voice whispered softly like a light breeze through his mind, '_you will not remain alone Merlin.' _Her face flashed before his eyes, so long since he had last seen it. He could almost reach out a hand and touch the splattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks. Merlin pushed the memory away as fast as it came. No, he would not go there. He would never go there again, to that memory, that time and place.

He heard the door open, caught a waft of Gwen's familiar perfume and opened his eyes.

"Merlin," she smiled.

He couldn't even begin to explain how much it meant to hear his name on her lips. He was Merlin once again after spending so many years being a number of different names and identities. It felt good, felt right.

She was wearing her uniform. Hair tied back into its customary bun. She looked tired and anxious. No doubt from another sleepless night and troublesome memories.

Her gaze rested on his face for so long, a look of nostalgia in her eyes as if she was remembering the days from long ago. Her next words confirmed his thoughts.

"Look at you," she began, "So young again."

There was another time and place when those words were spoken to him. Gwen on her deathbed and her grand-daughter Emelyn, who had begged him to make himself young again, both memories caused his breath to catch in his throat.

"Hmm I could say the same about you."

She smiled warmly.

"No more grey hair or lines."

Did that mean she was beginning to come to terms with the memories of the other lifetime?

She sat down in the chair by his bed. Obviously struggling with something on her mind, given the way she was biting her thumb nail.

He waited for her to speak. Knowing she would soon enough.

"What happened to him," she asked after a long lengthy silence. "W-What happened to Audric?"

It really was only a matter of time before she asked. He could see the raw vulnerability in her eyes. The boy had meant everything to her. _I may have lost Arthur, but I still have a part of him in Audric, he is both of us._ He had been the boy's mentor, replacement father. Thinking of his loss only served to bring a dull ache to his heart. He had grieved just as much for Audric, in many ways, as he had done for his father, Arthur.

"Did he marry?"

A good place to start, Merlin thought, much safer territory.

"Yes."

A smile trembled on Gwen's lips. He knew how anxious she had been about him finding the right woman to marry and settle down with. She had wanted him to have the sort of love her and Arthur had shared.

'_He's 28 Merlin, and hasn't even expressed love for another woman if you can exclude the several dalliances he's had along the way.'_

He could see her now as she was then, pacing the chambers, an anxious frown denting her forehead.

'_I'm sure it'll happen.'_

'_Arthur and I were married at 26.'_

'_People fall in love at different ages.'_

_She turned to look at him, her face softening as a tiny smile touched her lips._

'_And you Merlin? Are you ever going to fall in love?'_

_The question had thrown him, he frowned._

'_No.'_

_Her face grew serious, eyes sad._

'_There's no point Gwen, to love and marry and to watch her die while I go on living, I can't do it.'_

_She rubbed her arms. 'It sounds so lonely though.'_

Terribly lonely, his fate, for screwing everything up, but the time for mental torment was over. Everything was put right now.

"Merlin?"

He looked up suddenly, the memory receding.

"Was he in love?" she asked, looking anxious.

He managed a smile. "He was besotted with Mithian's daughter Esme, who was as wise, kind and as beautiful as her mother."

A wide smile crossed Gwen's face, reminding him of the time she had first shown him Audric.

'_Can you believe it Merlin, he's so precious and tiny.'_

He swallowed. "They married when he was 31, had two children a boy and girl."

It seemed such a long time ago now, and yet, at times not so long ago. He still remembered the radiant joy on Audric's face at the birth of his son, and two years later, his daughter.

"What were their names?" Gwen asked wistfully.

"The boy he called Alfred and the girl Emelyn."

"What did they look like?"

"Esme had been fair, so the boy Alfred looked a lot like Arthur actually; same eyes and Emelyn had your curly hair Gwen, a honey brown colour. She also looked a lot like Mithian."

"And you were there all the time?"

He was silent for a moment, head suddenly crowded with memories and slowly nodded. "Yes, I was always there."

"And Audric?"

He took a deep breath, fought to keep emotions in check.

"You would have been proud of him, he was a great King. Well he always was going to be with you as his mother, and Arthur as his father."

Tears filled her eyes and she hastily wiped them away with the sleeve of her shirt.

"Did he live a long and happy life?"

Merlin hesitated for a moment. Now he'd done it. How did he tell her?

"You know this will hurt Gwen?" he slowly began.

She sighed and nodded.

"You still want to know?"

She took so long to answer, a dozen emotions crossing her face before finally nodding.

"I think I need to know," she whispered.

He drew a deep breath and straightened his shoulders.

"Happy yes," he began, "Long no."

Her face paled.

"Still longer than Arthur," he added.

"H-How old was he?"

"39."

"How did he die?"

"In battle, Camelot fell. It was the Dark Ages. If you know your history Gwen the Saxon's sided with the Pict's and took control late in the 6th Century. I managed to get Esme and his two children to safety. I took them to my home village."

Her eyes widened in shock. "Camelot fell ..." As if the thought had never crossed her mind. He could only imagine how hearing this now must feel for her.

"At that time, the change of power between one warring races of people to another was prolific, Camelot was always going to eventually fall, as did the Saxon's to the Norman's a couple of hundred years later."

"What happened next?" she asked, blinking heavily.

"We disguised ourselves as peasants."

He remembered cutting Esme's hair to just below her shoulders and colouring it brown. They would be looking for her and she was a striking woman. If she was to be found she would be executed or worst still taken as some sort of sex slave for the Saxon's to use at their disposal.

God knows what they would have done to the children. At that time the Saxon's orders were to kill anyone of noble Briton blood or who they suspected to be of noble Briton blood.

"Then what happened?" she asked.

He hadn't aged himself since Gwen's death. He still looked to be in his late 50's. But he brought his age back down to 40 with a plan in mind.

He glanced at Gwen's reflective face.

"A month later the Saxon's rode through the village. I told them she was my wife. It was enough time for me to grow a beard, so I wasn't recognised and enough time also for Esme's hands to become roughened through hard labour."

Gwen's eyes grew round, as if he was telling a child a bedtime story, he mused. In reality that was probably how it sounded, except for him, because he had lived it.

He remembered Alfred's defiance when Merlin told him to act mute. _Alfred wanted to run them through. Even at seven years of age he showed remarkable skill with a sword. But the boy was full of anger over the loss of his father. More often than not Merlin saw more of Uther in him rather than Arthur. The girl Emelyn, however, was as sweet as Gwen had been and feisty_.

"They believed the lies I fed them and let us be."

Esme had been convincing as acting the part of nothing more than a peasant wife. But then a mother would do anything to protect her children.

"What happened to her mother Mithian?" Gwen inquired, sounding curious and looking completely mesmerized.

"She was killed along with the majority of Briton nobles of that time," he sighed, they were such dark times.

"And Esme?"

"I stayed with her for three years. She found another man, a good man in the village. He had lost his wife also and was caring for a young boy. They married and she was happy."

It seemed so odd to be talking about that time now. It was so long ago, yet, as he talked about that time, images and brief sporadic memories would filter through his mind; some sad, some also happy.

"It was my cue to leave Gwen. I couldn't keep watching people I cared about die over and over."

It had been tough to leave. He was attached to the Pendragon's. Always feeling duty bound, but he could only take so much. Emelyn had taken it the hardest. She had clung to him, sobbing, begging him not to go. She was eight by then, and so like Mithian and Gwen in nature.

"I watched over them from afar for a time."

"And you never found love Merlin?" Gwen asked softly, "In all those years."

What was it with Gwen wanting him to find love?

Sighing heavily, "Yes," he murmured, averting his eyes from hers.

He had found love, for a brief time, and in the most unlikely of places. Arthur and Gwen's granddaughter of all people, but they were memories he'd banished to the deeper recesses of his mind. It's only now, with Gwen asking him these questions that the memories returned. And against his will. It was a time he didn't wish to revisit for the pain it would only stir up in his heart. It really wasn't even necessary to go there. But now that Gwen had mentioned it, the memories came as if it were just yesterday.

_He was hoping not to be spotted. It was just one of his annual strolls through the village, to make sure Esme and her two children were doing okay. He would usually stay for a meal in the first couple of years. Esme would fill him on all that had happened. Emelyn and Alfred were always keen for stories of his travels._

_But as the years passed it became harder and harder to visit. It always hurt too much, would bring a rush of painful memories so Merlin had taken to keeping a low profile. This one year, however, Emelyn had spotted him._

'_Hoping to slip away unseen again,' she had spoken, stepping in front of him and blocking his path._

_She was a young woman by now. Her light brown golden curls held at bay by a simple red scrap of cloth._

'_Emelyn,' he sighed with a smile._

'_Merlin,' she grinned, flinging herself into his arms. 'Where have you been, why do you know longer visit us?' she continued, stepping back and giving him a reproachful look._

'_I-I don't want to put anyone out ..."_

'_Nonsense,' she brushed off with a wave of her hand, 'you will stay for a while and I won't take no for an answer,' she continued, looping her arm through his._

_As if he had a choice now. She was like a breath of fresh air, dusting away the lonely shadows of his heart._

_She led him to the modest hut they lived in._

'_Mother, you'll never guess who I found,' she called out as they entered._

_Esme appeared, her eyes widening. 'M-Merlin,' she stammered in disbelief, before a big smile crossed her face, making him feel guilty for his long absence._

_After hugging him warmly, she prepared a plate of cheese and fruit. His eyes rested on her face which had aged some. Far removed was this life to the one she had grown up with. A life then of ease and luxury to that of harder physical labour and it showed._

_They drank mead on her insistence. _

'_Not often I get to indulge.'_

_How could he say no to that?_

_They sat at the table, Esme doing most of the talking and him, listening. Emelyn sat on a rug in front of the fire grate playing with a young puppy that bounced eagerly around her. _

'_I don't know what to do with that girl,' Esme sighed, 'she is far too strong willed.'_

_Hardly surprising given her lineage, Merlin mused._

'_And Alfred, when not working in the fields spends all of his time sword fighting.'_

'_There may come a time when it'll be useful for him.'_

_It made him think of Arthur. He swallowed the lump in his throat. It just wasn't right to see them living this way, as peasants, a world without Camelot. How much had changed._

'_Yes but he needs to find himself a girl and settle down, but all he talks about is becoming part of a revolt and fighting the Saxon's, claim back what was rightfully ours.'_

_Esme ran her hands over her face in despair._

'_I fear for him and as for Emelyn, she is such a tomboy that I cannot see her settling down anytime soon. She is already 18. All the other village girls are married by now.'_

_Emelyn looked up, a frown denting her smooth forehead._

'_You'd have my life condemned already by boring matrimony!' she exclaimed._

_Merlin smiled at her words and the outraged look on her face. _

_Later that evening when he prepared to leave Emelyn cornered him._

'_Take me with you,' she begged, 'you see what my life would become here ... boring! I need something interesting, different and you are different Merlin,' she continued, 'in a good way,' she quickly amended._

_He understood. There was a time when he had felt the same way. A time when he'd been a young man leaving his village to find himself. But he couldn't take her from her family._

'_I can't.'_

_Can't wasn't a word Emelyn believed in. _

'_It wouldn't be proper,' he began._

'_Proper,' she snorted, 'you look old enough to be my father, that's perfectly proper.'_

_He sighed and shook his head. Why did he get the feeling she wouldn't take no for an answer?_

_She next took to hounding her mother, till Esme looked at him perplexed and threw her hands up in despair._

'_Maybe you can sort her out?'_

_He looked at her in disbelief._

'_Me?' He pointed to his chest._

'_I know she will be in safe hands with you, a few weeks break from village life might be all she needs?'_

_That's how Emelyn came to travel with him for a short period of time._

_They walked through the forests. He took her to the cave where Aithusa lived. She wanted different, she was about to get it. Of course she was besotted by the dragon, as the dragon, Aithusa, was by her. Aithusa missed Morgana. Morgana, for all of her flaws, had been devoted to the dragon. Pity she had put such value on the dragon's life, but not that of a human. He never had been able to understand it, but her love for the dragon, that he could._

_At night, by the campfire, he told Emelyn stories about Arthur, how he was his manservant, how Arthur didn't know about his magic because he had to keep it secret due to Camelot laws. He told her about Gwen, the serving girl, the girl Arthur fell in love with. He talked about their many adventures._

_She listened with rapt attention, always eager for more._

'_I wish I had magic,' she sighed, staring into the fire._

_He shook his head. 'No you don't.'_

_She slowly sat up, resting her elbows on her knees. Her somber brown eyes met with his. Silence followed as she continued to study him before murmuring._

'_You are special Merlin.'_

_He didn't want to hear it. It wasn't true. Cursed, being the more fitting word._

'_But always so sad now,' she continued._

_He glanced into her eyes and saw the compassion there. _

'_You need to feel alive again,' she spoke, her voice not more than a whisper._

_He slowly shook his head, not knowing how. Those days were long gone._

_She snuggled up to him, as she often did, resting her head on her shoulder, her hand slipping into his._

'_Make yourself true to form Merlin.'_

'_I-I can't,' he stammered._

'_Please,' she begged. 'Please let me see you so.'_

_He sighed, knowing he would regret this and whispered the words to un-break the aging spell. Then he sat for a long while staring into the log fire, unsure of what to say or do. Emelyn's face came into view, a look of wonderment in her eyes. Raising a hand she touched his face._

'_Look at you, so young.'_

_Then a wide beautiful smile crossed her pretty face._

'_Let's run.'_

_Before he had a chance to protest, she grabbed his hand and pulled him up._

'_Remember what it feels like to be young again Merlin, to be carefree, not to carry the burden of the world upon your shoulders.'_

_It was crazy and insane. He cursed himself for his moment weakness with her, and her compelling words. But it had been a long time. _

_They ran, everyday, Aithusa flying overhead as if some guiding saint, protecting them. It felt good, the rush of wind through his hair, the sense of freedom once again._

_He was drawn to her like a moth to a flame. Her musical laughter, the way she made him feel alive whenever he was in her presence, her unusual wisdom for one so young. _

_When she kissed him, he knew it was wrong. So sweet and fleeting, a mere brushing of her lips against his. He fought the urge to kiss her back, instead placing his hands on her shoulders and gazing deeply into her eyes. He couldn't let this happen._

'_I vowed never to fall in love.'_

_She smiled slowly. 'You can't control love. If it finds you, what can you do about it?'_

_Run away, as far as his legs would carry him. He should never have let her come with him._

'_You know what I am Emelyn, immortal. I can't die.'_

'_Everyone dies at some stage, even you Merlin.'_

_He shook his head, his heart aching. To have a normal life, if only, what he wouldn't give. He turned his pain filled gaze to hers._

'_I may look young Emelyn but don't let this face deceive you. I have lived for 80 years. I will go on living. You will age. And one day you will die,' his breath caught in his throat. _

_She wove her arms around his neck, resting her forehead against his. Her hand slipped around to the back of his neck, her fingers catching in his hair._

'_Then you can age yourself alongside me and we can, will always be together.'_

_He miserably shook his head. 'When you die I'll be alone, I couldn't bear it.'_

_She took a deep pain filled breath._

'_Merlin,' she whispered, a single tear slipping down her cheek._

_He brushed the tear away with his thumb._

'_You're young Emelyn, you will find someone else, someone ...' his voice broke off there and he swallowed the lump in his throat, 'someone that will age the same as you.'_

'_I-I don't want anyone else,' she murmured in a small sad voice._

_His sigh was heavy. His mind made up, despite what his heart wanted._

_The following day they walked back to the village. They took the steps slowly and mostly in silence._

_Once the village came into view, he stopped. What was he doing? Letting her go ... it shouldn't be so hard. Why was it so damn hard? _

_She turned to look at him, her expression heartbreaking. He reached out and caught a few strands of her hair in his fingers._

'_I-I can't go no further,' he muttered, bitterly._

_She flung herself into his arms, holding him tightly. Her lips found his. This time he couldn't hold back, kissing her with all the longing of his years denied love, all the many years he had to yet live, alone. This moment would be all he had with her. All he could allow. _

'_Will I ever see you again?' she asked her voice sad and wistful, eyes filled with tears._

_It broke what was left of his heart. His hands framed her face, committing it to memory._

'_I'm sorry it has to be this way,' he murmured._

_Her eyes filled with sorrow, but also a resigned sad acceptance._

'_I love you, I will always love you,' she whispered on the still night air._

_His heart thudded painfully in his chest._

'_Promise me you will not remain alone Merlin? It's not good to be so, promise me you will always remain in touch with people even if immortal? Promise me you will always be you.' _

_It was almost too much to bear, Arthur's words, the words he'd never forgotten, 'I don't want you to change. I want you to always be you.'_

_With one last longing look she slowly turned and began walking down the track towards her village._

_Tearing his eyes away from her retreating back, he forced his legs to move, heart heavy._

_It was the deciding factor. He could no longer watch over the Pendragon's. He had to distance himself. He had to move on. Safeguard his heart, and as always watch from afar and wait. Wait for Arthur's return and the uncertainty of what the future may hold._

* * *

Gwen's eyes were fastened on Merlin's face, the silence stretching out. He looked to be lost in a thought. A painful one at that given the many different emotions reflected in his eyes. Merlin had been in love. How often she had watched him, worrying, knowing the thought of being immortal ate away at his very soul.

She couldn't even begin to imagine what that must be like? Dying was almost a blessed relief, but she wished she had longer, more time. She remembered the desperate plea in Merlin's voice, _'You can't leave me yet ... Gwen you are all I have.'_

She had wanted to hold on, for him, to save him pain. A lump formed in her throat. This is why no one remembered previous lives, she bitterly mused, because it was just too painful.

"Who was she?" she murmured.

A deep sadness skittered across his face.

"I-It doesn't matter now," he mumbled.

She reached for his hand.

"You can still fall in love again?"

He frowned at her, a slight amused smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "What is it with you trying to match mate me with a girl?"

She squeezed his fingers.

"You shouldn't have to be alone. It's not good to be so."

The smile left his face, replaced by a haunted look in his eyes.

"What is it Merlin?" she hurriedly asked.

He shook his head. "Just that ... it's funny, how certain words have a way of always coming back around."

"Did she tell you that, the girl you loved?"

He nodded.

Gwen's curiosity was aroused. Who was this girl that had stolen his heart, when no one else had?

"Can you tell me who she was?"

He took a deep breath.

"Your grand-daughter Gwen ... Emelyn."

She was momentarily startled. Merlin had fallen in love with her grand-daughter. But of course ... why not? It made sense in a way.

"Well, that's hardly surprisingly when you think about it Merlin," she murmured.

But he said nothing. Her gaze remained fixed on his face, his eyes refusing to meet hers.

"Did you stay with her?"

He slowly shook his head. "No," he stammered, "I couldn't."

Her heart sank.

"Why?"

He raised his eyes to hers and she was rocked by the raw pain in them.

"It was just too hard, to love and to lose, over and over again."

Her heart ached for him. And all that he must have gone through.

"The worst is over now," she continued, patting his hand in a soothing gesture, least she hoped.

He took a shaky breath and managed a brief smile. "Yeah, I'm no longer immortal."

She smiled widely. "That's a relief then?"

He nodded. "Yes."

"Now there is no reason as to why you can't fall in love and let it happen."

He groaned and shook his head. "You just don't give up do you?"

"I want to see you happy."

"I am happy, now."

* * *

Arthur was bored out of his brain. Maybe he should consider sharing a room with Merlin. That would then give him some entertainment, least someone to talk to. He could get Merlin to tell him what he'd been up to for the last 1,400 years. Would he even remember everything that had happened to him over that time? The thought boggled his mind. Besides the last thing Merlin probably wanted to talk about was the last 1,400 years of his life. He wouldn't blame him either. But he was still curious. What had happened after Gwen died? What had become of Camelot?

Arthur tried reading to pass the time. Though he had trouble concentrating he persisted. Anything to keep his mind distracted. But it kept drifting back to Merlin. Merlin would be the only living soul to remember a time in which there were no written records. The Dark Ages were called that because there was next to no written account of that time period. Instead it was filled with legend and folklore. The Arthurian legends, most every kid in England would have some idea of it.

Putting his book down, Arthur reached for his IPad and spent the next several hours researching the Arthurian legends. It was bizarre to say the least to read stuff written about him that was so far removed from the truth. How could it get so twisted and distorted?

Okay so nothing was written for several hundreds of years later but still. And why did they think he was Welsh? He supposedly slept with Morgana and Mordred was their son. He shuddered at the thought. Mordred took over the throne when he was away on some long trip? Guinevere ended up in a nunnery? Merlin was the court wizard during Uther's reign? It was kind of amusing.

_Merlin why had you let them write all of this shit?_

He could imagine his response. '_I couldn't be everywhere Arthur.'_

'_Why didn't you write it then?'_

'_Didn't think of it.'_

Great now he was having imaginary conversations with Merlin in his head, he inwardly sighed.

Gwen walked into his room, much to his relief. It was now nearing seven in the evening.

"How's Merlin?" he asked.

Her face went blank, she blinked. He frowned.

"Gwen?"

She looked at him. "He's fine," she quickly replied, and busied herself by checking the obs chart at the end of his bed.

"What about you?" she asked.

"Bored," he returned, "I'm thinking of having Merlin share my room for some entertainment."

She smiled. "You would subject him to your snoring," she quipped.

"I don't snore," he scoffed and hang on a second, how did she know that?

He glanced at her curiously.

"Gwaine told me," she hurriedly said.

How did she know what he was thinking? Was there something she wasn't telling him? He was about to ask, but hesitated, unsure of how he would go about it. It would be easier if she just remembered, but maybe she was better off not remembering. It was kind of painful in some ways.

He began chatting about his visit with Merlin, the battle-axe nurse as Gwen took his blood pressure and pulse. She only appeared to be half listening and seemed distracted, Arthur observed. Something wasn't right with her.

"You don't seem yourself tonight," he spoke, watching her write on his chart.

"I'm not sure if I am," she replied absently, with a brief smile, "myself."

Had she meant that as a joke? He scrutinized her face, the dark shadows under her eyes.

"Who are you then Gwen?" he continued lightly.

"Who are you Arthur?" she quickly returned, her direct gaze met with his.

His heart rate began to increase. That was cryptic. She had to know something, something she wasn't willing to share with him yet.

"I asked first," he murmured, clearing his throat.

She slowly shook her head. "I wasn't who I thought I was."

His eyes widened, puzzled at her words. "Me neither."

She did know ... she had to.

"Gwen," he began, heart pounding. "What are you not telling me?"

He captured her gaze, and held it. The many conflicting emotions in her eyes, told him of one thing and one thing only; she remembered and had for a while.

She opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by the entrance of the orthopedic specialist.

"Arthur," he began. "We need to chat."

Arthur all but glared at him.

Gwen shut her mouth.

"I'll come back later," she murmured and quickly left his room.

He silently groaned in frustration. The orthopedic specialist began prattling on about his leg and Arthur couldn't even take in a word he said, such bloody lousy timing.

* * *

He waited for her to come back, for what seemed like hours. And where was she? Was she afraid to tell him? How long had she known for? Why had she said nothing before now? He didn't understand. By the time it reached 11.00pm he came to the conclusion that she wasn't going to see him and hid the bitter disappointment that he felt.

Arthur was just about to fall to sleep when he felt fingers stroke his hair, Gwen. Her lips pressed against his forehead. He was about to open his eyes, when she spoke.

"How could you leave me?"

Her voice laced with anguish and pain. Her words tore a piece from his heart.

"I missed you so much, Arthur, you have no idea how hard it was."

His heart beat painfully in his chest.

"We had a son. You would have been proud of him."

She had a son, his son ... he fought back the tears, but they managed to escape despite his best attempt at controlling them.

He felt her fingers lightly brush the errant tears away.

"You're not asleep Arthur."

"No," he muttered, his voice hoarse.

He still kept his eyes tightly shut, afraid to open them, afraid to let her see how much pain he was in, ashamed of the tears that rolled down his cheeks. Tears of everything he had lost, a life he should have had with her, but didn't, a son he had never lived to see.

"Oh Arthur," she murmured, in a broken voice.

That voice was so compelling, so sad that he had no option but to open his eyes.

He gazed into her pain filled face.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, raising a hand and touching her smooth cheek, "I-I didn't want to die, didn't want to leave you."

She lovingly caressed his face. "I know," she whispered.

He pulled her into his arms and held her tight, burying his face in her hair. There was no need for words. After all what could be said, both of them knowing what it was they had lost and how much it had cost.

* * *

Now Gwen had told Arthur about remembering, and about their son Audric, Merlin was bombarded by one question after another from Arthur the following day.

Merlin never realized that having Arthur and Gwen remembering would cause him so much grief, not necessarily in an unpleasant way ... just it wasn't as easy as he had imagined it to be.

He was happy enough to tell Arthur everything about Audric, trying hard not to let emotion get the better of him. Now and again a sad wistful look would steal over Arthur's face, making Merlin feel bad for him.

_Yes it should have been you Arthur. _

Sometimes there was even a hint of resentment in Arthur's eyes, which made him feel worse. And to the point where he couldn't help but blurt out, "It's my fault, I screwed up Arthur."

"Don't be ridiculous Merlin."

"No, it's true, I knew about the prophecy, that Mordred would kill you and I tried to stop the events from happening, but the more I interfered the worst I made everything. Don't you see I should have done nothing? I should have let Mordred be caught when he was a boy. I should have let Morgana die, everything I did ... was wrong Arthur."

Arthur saw the distraught look on Merlin's face. He always did worry too much. _Arthur, without you, Camelot is nothing. All that we've worked so hard to create, everything will be gone._

"No one is perfect Merlin," he returned, exasperated. "You did what you could, beside what does any of it matter now. Plus I would have been dead long before that if you hadn't been around, and would we even be here having this conversation right now?"

Merlin shut his mouth and tilted his head to the side as if he hadn't considered that thought before. Arthur smiled at the familiar sight, that expression, how many times he'd seen it before.

"I couldn't think of another person I'd rather have raise my son and be there for Gwen, than you Merlin," he admitted.

Merlin looked oddly touched by his words. Arthur rested his hand on his shoulder.

"Always knew you'd be the best person for it."

"Um ... thanks," he stammered.

* * *

They spent their days either in the recreation room or outside, if it wasn't too cold, playing cards and talking. As always, Merlin would wait for Arthur to ask questions, knowing that he eventually would. Arthur would take time to process his thoughts before talking about that other time. As if dealing with it was difficult, wading through the many myriad of emotions.

"I've been thinking," Arthur began.

"I don't think you should," Merlin quipped, "Think Arthur."

He rolled his eyes and snorted.

"That time, when I was supposedly knocked unconscious and woke up to be a simpleton. How was it that you, on your own were able to lug my unconscious body around?"

Merlin just smiled and shook his head. Arthur's eyes narrowed.

"I wasn't unconscious was I?"

"Ah ... no."

"You put some spell on me didn't you?"

"Yeah, I kind of made you simple."

Arthur stopped shuffling the cards and looked at him in disbelief.

"It was funny, having you do anything I asked you to do for a change."

Arthur, deadpan. "I suppose it was payback?"

Merlin's smiled widened. "Yeah, you could say that."

Arthur shook his head.

He was still an enigma in many ways.

"What did you do during that time?" he asked, "A thousand years and more Merlin."

"Lots of sightseeing," Merlin replied a hint of amusement in his eyes.

He was a regular funny guy, Arthur mused wryly.

"Seriously Merlin."

Merlin sighed.

"Big chunks of that time are just a blur Arthur, some moments I remember in better clarity, especially the first hundred years, but after that ... time just became meaningless, one day blurred into the next."

"You didn't spend all of that time alone?"

Merlin went strangely still. Arthur frowned, perplexed. What was with the sudden lost look in his eyes?

"No, I made a promise," he slowly returned.

"To who?" Arthur asked curiosity aroused.

He met Arthur's gaze directly, "Your granddaughter."

Arthur abruptly shut his mouth. Merlin never ceased to surprise him.

"What was she like?"

"Beautiful, spirited and kind-hearted, a lot like Mithian but with Gwen's curly hair, only a shade or two lighter."

Arthur didn't know what to make of the dreamy look on Merlin's face. He seemed nothing more than a young man like anyone else, yet, not. Merlin had had a life and an incredibly long one, outside of Camelot. It did his head in.

"You sound as if you were in love with her."

Merlin quickly pulled himself up with a start and frowned, a hint of colour in his cheeks.

"Of course not," he quickly muttered.

Arthur didn't believe him. And why shouldn't Merlin fall in love at some stage, even if with his granddaughter, the thought of even having a granddaughter was something he couldn't even begin to comprehend. Anyway none of it really mattered now. Not to him. But maybe to Merlin and it was hard to imagine, Merlin, always living. The thought bothered him. No one should have had to suffer that.

* * *

Arthur watched Gwen's every movement as she went about the usual routine. He almost felt kind of jealous she had gotten to spend thirty years more with Merlin, which was absolutely stupid, when he thought long and hard about it. It was even harder to think of her living to 60 years of age. What was that like?

He had died, then there was nothing and now he was here. In many ways it was easier for him than Merlin and Gwen. He had nothing further to remember.

Then he would remember that she also spent thirty years without ever marrying.

"Why didn't you get married again?" he asked her, as she straightened his bed sheets.

"Never met anyone that I fell in love with," she quietly returned.

He was glad, though he shouldn't be, should he? Still 30 years was a long time.

"Besides I had Merlin," she continued, with a quick smile.

Everyone had Merlin, even his son had gotten to spend 39 years with Merlin as opposed to his measly eight years. But eight years that had impacted his life in so many ways. Merlin was the person he had need of. Seems he wasn't the only one though. Seems Merlin had touched a lot of people's lives, along with the lives of generations to proceed him.

He was the glue that held the fragility of life together.

"There wasn't even another man that you liked?" he persisted.

She straightened up, rubbed her back and sighed.

"Arthur, do we really have to talk about it?"

Yes, they did. Only she never wanted too. It puzzled him. Why didn't she?

"I'd like to just forget now," she continued.

Her words hurt, far more than he would admit.

"I just want to put it behind us and move on," she quickly amended, "What is there to say?"

She had a point, but moving on ... well he was finding that sort of hard to do. It didn't help with her unwillingness to want to discuss that time.

As usual she was always keeping herself busy doing something, if it wasn't straightening his sheets, then tidying her bedside table. It was beginning to frustrate him.

"Gwen," he began, reaching for her hand, "Stop, please, look at me."

He needed her to acknowledge him. Instead of always shying away, at this rate he was almost too afraid to touch her. Not sure of her reaction. She gave him an apprehensive look. He thought they had moved on from that.

"I know this is weird and difficult," he began, taking both her hands in his. "I feel the same."

Her eyes lowered, she shook her head.

"You can't possibly feel the same way I do," she murmured.

His heart constricted within his chest. What did he have to say to get through to her?

"I'm trying to, but I feel as if you are keeping me at an arm's length distance."

"I don't mean to Arthur," she sighed sadly, "I just trying to come to terms with it all ... and I'm finding it hard to do so."

He brought one of her hands up to his lips and kissed her fingers.

"Then talk to me please, don't shut me out," he murmured.

Her face softened, and she squeezed his hands.

"I'll try."

At that moment his father came striding into his room. Gwen quickly pulled her hands away from his. His father took one look at her, sudden recognition dawning and his eyes narrowed.

"What is she doing here?" he demanded.

Arthur bristled at his words.

"She is here because I want her here," he retorted.

His father didn't look happy.

"You continue to defy me, and have an affair with this woman," he huffed, glancing with resentment in her direction.

"C'mon father, doesn't what makes me happy count for anything?"

He was so tired of this, tired of having no say over his own life. He might have had to be King last lifetime but it wasn't different now. Now, he really didn't have to answer to anyone, he was no King, he could be whatever he wanted to be.

"You have bewitched my son in some way," he muttered angrily, turning towards Gwen.

Arthur could almost laugh, bitterly, at those words.

"Just because he's not as shallow as you," she flung back at him.

She had straightened herself up and even though short in stature, she held her head high and looked at him defiantly.

"How dare you talk to me like that!" his father raged. "Who do you think you are?"

She didn't even flinch under his father's angry glare. Now he could see the Queen she would have been back then. She ruled Camelot for 30 years. She would have been a force to be reckoned with.

"I happen to work here, and I happen to care for your son. I do don't have to justify myself to the likes of you."

Arthur's eyes widened. His father continued to glare at Gwen.

"Not for much longer," he hissed and turning on his heel he stormed out of his room.

"No father!" he called after him, running a hand through his hair.

Shit, shit, shit.

His eyes met with Gwen's. Her face had gone pale.

"Some things just don't change," she sighed, but her voice shook.

"I'm so sorry about that Gwen," he muttered, feeling shame wash over him.

Why did his father have to be so damn unreasonable? He could see him still being a big problem that would come between him and Gwen just as much this time around as before, the bitter irony.

"At least he can't execute me this time," she lightly quipped.

But a disturbing thought took hold and he glanced at her worriedly. He recalled his father's words, _'not for much longer.'_

"He's still a ruthless man, he might not be able to burn you at the stake but he could still hurt you Gwen."

A slight puzzled frown dented her forehead.

"He can't have me sacked?" she began, "Can he?"

"I don't know," he muttered. "But I wouldn't put it pass him."

Her brow furrowed in worry. "What do you mean Arthur?"

"The night of Morgana's 21st birthday he threatened me," he took a deep breath, "He said if I didn't stop seeing you he would find a way to have you dishonourably discharged from the Army."

Gwen went very still at those words. He said what ... as a slow realization dawned.

"Is that why you broke it off between us?" she gasped.

"Yes," he muttered, averting his yes, as if ashamed.

All that time she had thought the worst of him, and he'd done it to protect her. But even still he should have been honest. He could have saved them all so much pain.

"You should have told me the truth!"

He shut his eyes. "I know," he sighed miserably, raking a hand through his hair. "When I saw you again ... I realized that, realized that I could never stop loving you, the mistake that I had made."

"So you just happen to decide to let me suffer instead, let your father dictate the terms."

Put like that, it sounded bad.

"No! I-I ..."

She began to laugh, a little hysterically, making him frown in confusion.

"Even now we continue to get it wrong Arthur," she gasped, her laughter turning to tears.

"Your father nearly had me executed, you banished me from Camelot, and now I'm probably about to lose my job!"

He wanted to protest, but her words ... she was right and there was nothing he could say to change it.

"I'm sorry," he began, miserably.

She glanced at him and he saw the spark of anger in her eyes. "Well this isn't the bloody dark ages Arthur, as a woman in the 21st century I now have rights and I'll use them to fight your father if he dares to take me on."

He was speechless.

"Maybe you better get with the times as well."

She gave him one long last sad look before turning away and quickly leaving his room.

"Gwen," he called after her, "Damn!"

* * *

Arthur went in search of Merlin. He didn't need anyone to push his wheelchair, having mastered the art for himself and quickly. He really needed to talk to him. He was frazzled to say the least. Merlin had known Gwen for a long time. That meant he would know things about her that no one, even him, as much as it pained him to admit, would know. What he saw just now, the way she stood up to her father and as much as he admired her for it, it also scared him.

She was the same Gwen, but also different.

_'She built a wall around her heart Arthur.'_

Yeah, he could damn well see that now!

_'She was the strongest woman I've ever know.'_

He could see that too. And in a way it disturbed him. Like having lived 30 years longer than him gave her knowledge that he didn't possess.

Arthur reached Merlin's room and watched curiously as Merlin murmured words in a foreign tongue, his gaze fixed on his left hand. Eyes glowed gold before returning to blue. Merlin shook his head and glared at the hand, which obviously still wasn't doing his bidding.

If Merlin struggled to heal himself how the hell had he thought he could heal him? But Arthur had to silently admit that it would be tempting. To rely on Merlin's magic to soothe the pain in his legs, to heal the ugly scars Arthur knew the burns would leave.

"You know I could just be anyone watching you do that Merlin," Arthur muttered.

Merlin didn't even glance in his direction.

"I already knew you were there," he returned.

Arthur wheeled himself into his room. Merlin glanced at him, a frown denting his forehead.

"What's wrong Arthur?"

"Gwen," he sighed, "She doesn't want to talk about that time and I don't know what to say and father called by just as she happened to be there and ... it wasn't pretty."

"Yeah, Gwen doesn't take much shit," he began with a smile, but the smile quickly left his face at his pointed stare.

"She's changed," Arthur murmured, perplexed.

"Not really, not underneath it all," Merlin reassured.

"Why won't she talk to me about that time?" he persisted.

"She will, when she's ready to Arthur, just don't push it."

"Yeah well I don't have your patience Merlin."

Merlin grinned. "Yeah, I know."

He scowled at him.

Merlin's face grew serious. "I suspect her scars run deeper than yours Arthur."

"You mean me dying," he sighed.

Merlin nodded. But Merlin had lived for so long yet he was more willing to talk than Gwen. And surely he would have lost so much more.

"Do you have scars of your own Merlin?"

He noticed the shadows cross the young man's eyes.

"Yes."

"I guess there is a story behind each one?"

"It would take a long time to discuss them all."

No doubt it would, more so the emotional ones than the physical scars. And he'd seen Merlin's physical scars. He still remembered it, how much it had disturbed him.

"What about the main burn mark on your chest?"

"That was way back in the early days. Nimueh threw a fireball at me."

Arthur frowned.

"You were bitten by the Questing Beast , a life for a life to restore the balance, you know this story well enough Arthur ... I offered my life to save yours, but like your father I was also deceived and they took the life of my mother instead, or were about to take it."

Arthur's eyes widened in shock, again Merlin offering his life for his, how many times?

"I went back to the Isle of the Blessed to bargain my mother's life for my own but Gaius beat me to it."

Just as well Merlin had Gaius, now he thought about it.

"In the end I was so angry that I brought lightening down from the heavens and struck Nimueh with it, killing her and Gaius lived. The balance had been restored, Nimueh's life, for a life."

Arthur swallowed. There was faint amusement mixed with bitter irony in Merlin's eyes.

"You asked Arthur."

There was so much more to Merlin, so much that Arthur was only just beginning to discover about the young man. It fascinated him as much as it sometimes disturbed him. Overall though was the thought, _if he had only known. _

"I'm beginning to come to the conclusion Merlin that it really isn't a good idea to piss off a sorcerer," he said dryly.

Merlin smiled.

"To tell you the truth Arthur, I really don't like killing people."

"I know. I had probably killed more people than you ever would have done."

Those words surprised him in many ways. He really had killed a lot of people, and Merlin, the sorcerer, only a handful. How could his killing be justified and Merlin's not? How could Merlin have been deemed evil just for being a sorcerer when he, himself and others like him, had killed so many?

Yet their actions could be justified. They were noble, supposedly honourable. Knights of the round table and revered whilst Merlin and his kind, scorned.

"It was just so wrong," he murmured, slowly shaking his head.

Merlin frowned, confused.

"What was?"

"Everything, you ... magic, our bigoted narrow mind views then."

Sudden surprised crossed Merlin's face. Arthur looked at him in a new light. Merlin really was the glue that held it all together. He always had been and he always would be. That gave Arthur hope and reassurance in more ways than one.

"I'm glad we found each other again," he admitted, knowing that with Merlin by his side, it would alright.

.

.

* * *

**A/N: I not sure what people will think of Merlin's flashback. Like I said, it wasn't part of my intention, just that when I started writing the scene it sort of wrote itself? And I went with the flow. The thought of Merlin never having experienced much love seemed sort of sad, but then writing him falling in love and having to walk away was even sadder, I think? Like I said I don't think it detracts from the story really, if anything just adds a bit more to Merlin's character and it was kind of nice to escape the hospital setting for a time. Feel free to tell me what you think. Feedback is always welcomed and I seriously debated whether or not to leave the flashback scene in, but in the end felt that I should.**

**Please excuse errors. I tried to edit to the best of my ability but time did get the better of me. There really isn't enough time in the one given day. I need one of those timey wimey things Hermoine had in the third Harry Potter film. Pity they are not real!**


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: The saga continues!**

**Enjoy.**

* * *

_**Chapter 21.**_

* * *

It had been three weeks. Not that Arthur was counting, much. He was itching to get up on crutches. He had to wait another week. No infection had set into his leg as of yet. He was on strong antibiotics which kind of upset his stomach and made him feel bloated, just to add to his misery. If it wasn't already bad enough with that contraption thing on his leg, which was cumbersome and made moving around difficult, being inactive for this length of time was driving him crazy.

He was also on tenterhooks as to what his father would do in regards to Gwen. So far several days had passed. Nothing had happened, but that wasn't to say it wouldn't. He knew his father all too well. Not to mention the many different feelings he had in regards to his father, feelings that overlapped with the past life. Back then he had kind of blindly adored his father, overseeing his many faults and that he was a hypocrite. It wasn't until he had accidentally called his father's ghost back that he saw him for what he really was.

'_Your whole life, I tried to prepare you for the day you would become King. Did you learn nothing?'_

'_I watched you rule, and I learnt that if you trust no one, you will always live in fear. Your hatred came from fear, not strength.'_

'_How dare you!'_

'_I loved and respected you. But I have to rule the Kingdom in my own way. I have to do what I believe to be right.'_

'_I will not allow you to destroy all that I built.'_

'_Then you will have to kill me. I am not you, father. I can't rule the way you did.'_

'_Camelot must come before all else, even you.'_

Whatever happened next he hadn't been sure about. His father had knocked him out. When he came to he had gone in search of Merlin. What he saw next chilled him to the bones, his father intent on killing Merlin. His father was insane with power, bound by fear.

'_You've had your turn, now it's mine.'_

He blew the horn and sent him father back to where he belonged. However, it wasn't that simple now. His father was very real and as every bit power driven as he had been back then. He didn't have quite the same authority, but he still had power. He was also just as much bound by the same motivations. He really was a dangerous man. Lucky he didn't remember the other lifetime and Arthur hoped it stayed that way. As for his feelings towards his father now, bitter resentment is what he felt. It probably wasn't a good thing.

Since father's little visit the other day, him telling Gwen what his father had really said to him that night of Morgana's 21st birthday, she had been somewhat cool and distant.

She was no longer his wife. She wasn't beholden to him in any way. They hadn't even had a proper relationship this lifetime. And whatever had happened between them in that other time now seemed like a fleeting dream.

He didn't ask her any questions, didn't want to upset her in anyway. They just talked about everyday general mundane stuff.

He did say to her that if his father remained true to his threat that he would do anything in his power to stop it. That she shouldn't have to suffer as a result of him. She had at least given him one of her warm sweet smiles that had been far too brief. He tried to ignore the sadness in her eyes, which too closely reflected his own.

At this rate he was going to lose her. He had no idea on how to win her back.

What did he have to offer her? Only a power hungry father that would probably crucify her if she went anywhere near him. She was already convinced that he allowed his father to dictate his life to him. Disappointed that he hadn't been honest with her, letting them both suffer unnecessarily and she was totally right. She had already once ruled a kingdom for 30 years as opposed to his four. And she had raised their son, something that he still couldn't get his head around.

She wasn't so easily impressed like she had once been in her girly naivete.

He was bloody hopeless at flirting and not much better at trying to be charming either.

Being rich, good looking he could snap up any girl he wanted and didn't have to be. But Gwen wasn't impressed by things like that.

He was no longer a noble honourable prince who could sweep her off her feet either.

She would have, no doubt, had other men before him? This was the 21st century after all. She had even gotten cosy with Lancelot at Camp Clifton, seemed rather taken him by him as much as she had done previous lifetime.

Lancelot was a better man than him. Maybe she would be happier with him? He probably had really nice parents. A mother that would dote on her and a father that would welcome her with open arms into their family fold. And why was he torturing himself like this? But now that his mind had gone there he couldn't stop it.

He wasn't noble, unlike Lancelot.

Gwen wasn't a serving girl anymore. She had rights and a mind of her own. She was smart, sassy and much too good for him.

Lancelot was charming, good looking and strong. He, Arthur, wasn't even half the man he had been back then. He wasn't a king, not even a skilled swordsman. He was just any other average guy trying to figure out who the hell he was and what he wanted to do with his life, with an overbearing controlling father.

Not only that but he was currently an invalid, with bung legs and no surety he would ever get back the mobility he once had.

Lancelot was fit, able and healthy. Why wouldn't Gwen prefer that?

Arthur shut his eyes, cursing the depressed turn his thoughts had taken.

True, he was feeling sorry for himself. It was pitiful. He knew that but he still couldn't stop it.

He was beginning to come to the sinking conclusion that it was all too hard. Easier just to give in and not give a shit either way. If only he could convince his heart of the same thing.

"Uh oh I've seen that look on your face before," Merlin spoke from the doorway.

Arthur opened his eyes and slowly turned his head as the nurse wheeled Merlin across the floor to his bed. The sight of Merlin managed to drag him out of his misery just a tad.

"It's nearly midday Arthur and you're not even out of bed yet, that's not like you?"

"I was tired."

But he could tell Merlin didn't believe him. He never could pull the wool over his eyes. Merlin was and always had been uncannily astute.

"You're depressed," Merlin said in a matter of fact way.

There was no point in even trying to deny it.

"I'm stuck like this," he gestured irritably to his legs, "for god knows how long and yes Merlin I am depressed."

A thoughtful look crossed Merlin's face and his gaze fell on his legs.

"If you let me help the healing process along ..." he began.

"You can't even heal yourself," Arthur cut him off.

"I'm getting there look at this," Merlin began, raising his right hand, "see one hand."

He stiffly raised his left hand and wriggling his fingers, "the other hand."

It brought a brief smile to Arthur's face, along with the distant faint memory of that other time and place, but not enough to ward off his depression.

"And if you use magic to help me then it will only hurt you and trust me Merlin it's not worth it."

A faint frown dented Merlin's forehead.

"This isn't just about your legs is it?" he softly asked.

Arthur shook his head.

"This is about Gwen?"

"She's," he began, bitterly, "better off without me."

Merlin cocked his head to one side as if considering his statement.

"And she agreed to this?" he lightly asked.

Arthur merely scowled at him.

"Oh, I see, you didn't actually ask her," he continued.

Arthur's frown deepened. Trust Merlin to be shrewd.

"Well the way she has been acting these last couple of days doesn't give me any encouragement that she'll forgive me anytime soon for my so called lack of honesty."

Merlin didn't say anything, and just sat, a thoughtful look on his face.

"And let's face it Merlin, what the hell do I have to offer her now?" he continued bitterly. "What we once had was another lifetime ago and something we've not had this time around."

Merlin was still quiet and Arthur glanced at him annoyed. Why wasn't he saying anything?

"What do I do Merlin?" he asked exasperated.

"Nothing," he replied, "Simple honesty, is about all you can do."

"But what if she never forgives me?"

"She will."

Arthur still had his doubts but Merlin appeared so sure of himself.

"She's better off with Lancelot."

Merlin just sighed and shook his head.

"She loves you."

Arthur held a finger up.

"Correction Merlin, she once loved me."

"You really believe that Arthur?" he asked, disbelief crossing his face.

"I don't know what to believe anymore," he muttered.

"No, Arthur, she still does. I know her and she will come around when she's ready, you just have to give her time."

Merlin the voice of reason, something's didn't change. Arthur, doubting himself and Merlin making him believe, or attempting to as he always had done.

In fact Merlin was the only person out there that kept him feeling remotely sane and balanced. He would be a basket case without him.

Even so, he still wasn't entirely convinced when it came to Gwen. However, he would take his advice and do nothing. The ball was in her court, whatever she felt best to do with it. Besides he was far too depressed to feel any motivation to even try anymore.

* * *

Merlin did know Gwen. Better than anyone. She never had hidden anything from him. Three days ago she had ranted and raved on about Uther, how insufferable he was. She was pissed that Arthur had lied to her instead of being honest.

'_What is his problem?!'_

None of which he was about to tell Arthur. Arthur was depressed enough. He didn't need to hear or have any more doubt fill his head.

Gwen had paced the floor of his room in her agitated state.

"I guess he did what he thought was right," he had said, in an attempt to soothe her.

She turned and looked at him, a frown furrowing her forehead.

"But it wasn't right Merlin."

"I know that but well ... Arthur knows his father better than everyone ..."

"Oh really," she had snapped, "Because it seems to me he's just as blinded by his bigoted father now as he was then."

Merlin shook his head, "No, trust me he resents his father."

Gwen hadn't looked at all convinced.

"His father was going to banish me from Camelot just because Arthur declared his love for me, and this time around Arthur breaks things off because his father threatened to have me dishonourably discharged!"

Her voice had risen now. She stared pointedly at him, hands coming to rest on her hips.

"So tell me Merlin, what has changed?"

He hadn't known what to say, because she was right, but not when it came to how Arthur now viewed his father. Arthur was also well aware he'd screwed up.

"And I don't think I want to get into a relationship with him if he hasn't changed, if he can't stand up to his father."

Merlin inwardly sighed. Great, he was back to playing matchmaker again. Why couldn't these things be easy? And was that the real reason Gwen didn't want to get into a relationship with Arthur? Or was she afraid to risk her heart, risk being abandoned again?

"He was just trying to protect you Gwen ..." his voice trailed away, she didn't appear to be listening.

"You know when I remember back to that time, even after Uther was going to banish me and forbid Arthur to see me, Arthur still doted on him."

"You can't compare him to then," he sighed, "because he certainly doesn't dote on him now."

Gwen flopped into the chair by his bed, looking sad and reflective.

"I do love him, but ... I just don't know what to do," she deeply sighed and buried her face in her hands. "Things are different now, I'm different and values have changed and I can't go back to being who I was in that other lifetime."

"You don't have to ..."

She raised haunted eyes to his. "But I think Arthur expects me to," she murmured. "He always wants to talk about it."

"That's because his time was short lived."

Couldn't she see that?

"Look Gwen, Arthur still fell in love with you now, without remembering, as you did."

She gave a mirthless laugh. "Yes and looked what has happened."

Merlin was about ready to tear his hair out in frustration. Why was he always the mediator? He should just lock the two of them in a room together and throw away the key till they sorted it out.

* * *

Arthur made an attempt to get out of bed the following morning. Staring at the same four walls and feeling sorry for himself was screwing around with his head. He'd go get Merlin. They could spend the day in the recreation room playing cards or watching television. Better he wasn't alone to mope in his self-pity.

Arthur wheeled himself down the corridor distracted by his thoughts when he saw Gwen. She wasn't wearing the typical nurses Army uniform. That's right she was on R&R now. He stopped, suddenly unsure on what to do. Gwen hadn't noticed him. He could make a quick retreat. Then Lancelot came into view.

Gwen smiled happily."Lance," she exclaimed and he watched as Lancelot caught her in a warm embrace.

The green eyed monster raised its ugly head. All the insecurity and doubt returned like a punch to his guts. He abruptly wheeled around before they saw him. Not at all sure where he was going, only he had to get away from here, from them. The image of Gwen hugging Lancelot blurring with the previous image of them kissing, that same sense of betrayal was just as strong as it had been. Even if there was perhaps no cause for it now, but nothing was right between them. He doubted it ever would be again.

The door to the outside garden came into view and he headed that way. Yanking the sliding the door back and wheeling himself outside.

He welcomed the cold blast of air on his flushed face and took a few deep breaths. Trying to calm down, trying to rationalize the many different emotions coursing through him.

Gwen liked Lancelot. Gwen had always liked Lancelot. Maybe she had even loved him once. Maybe she still did and that's why she couldn't bring herself to get back with him?

No, that wasn't right. He was being irrational. In fact, he really had no damn idea anymore.

"Arthur what are you doing out here?"

He recognized her voice in an instant, Gwen. Damn, the last person he wanted to see right now.

"I needed some fresh air," he muttered in reply over his shoulder, not even glancing her way.

He couldn't bring himself to look at her.

"In nothing more than shorts and a t-shirt?" she lightly quipped. "It's freezing out here."

She stepped in front of him but he kept his eyes focused on her shoes. Unable to get pass the doubt and jealously that burned like battery acid in his guts.

"What are you doing out here?" he asked, gruffly.

"I followed you." He heard the hesitation in her voice.

She must have seen him after all. Terrific.

"Why?"

He was about to add, _'I'm surprised you noticed me seeing you were busy being hugged by Lancelot' _but kept his mouth shut. That would not go down well.

He clenched the sides of the wheelchair tightly till his knuckles grew white.

"Arthur," she began in that calm voice of hers, "Look at me."

Not an option. If he looked at her she would see exactly what he was feeling. He was bound to say something he would regret.

Instead she crouched down so she was eye level with him and he had no choice but to look at her.

He saw the concern in her eyes, mixed with confusion. He repressed the urge to reach out and touch her face. The wanting to mean something to her, the wanting more from her than she was currently able to give him and it hurt.

"You saw me hug Lancelot?" she continued.

Of course she knew, it wasn't half obvious and he wished she hadn't followed him.

"So what if I did," he muttered, harsher than he had intended.

She flinched.

He shook his head. Good going, he silently berated himself.

"You still think I have feelings for him?" she asked, a hint of incredulity in her voice.

There was much confusion in her expression.

"You two were very friendly at Camp Clifton," he began heavily, "Not to mention you did kiss him in that ... other time."

He quickly lowered his gaze. How, why should that still hurt now? Only then Lancelot was dead. He could no longer be a threat. And now, he was very much alive along with his gnawing doubt.

"I see," was all she said and went strangely quiet.

The silence was unnerving. He'd rather have her yell at him, and tell him how stupid he was, anything but this.

"Nothing is certain between us, I don't even know where I stand with you anymore," he spoke to break the silence.

"That's because nothing has been certain between us this time," she sadly replied.

His frown was swift, his reply immediate.

"And what happened before doesn't count?"

She bit down on her lip, tears sprung to her eyes. "Yes, a-and here we both are with you still thinking I have feelings for Lancelot," she sighed.

"Do you?"

She shook her head and closed her eyes. "I like him, he's a good man, at one stage I was attracted to him but I wasn't in love with him."

He wasn't sure if he believed her. He wasn't sure of anything anymore.

"You adored me and I adored you," she continued, "You put me on a pedestal Arthur, someone to be admired, be your queen, but when I fell from grace I was banished with no one, no friends and no home."

Several tears slipped down her cheeks making him feel bad. He hadn't considered her feelings then, to full of his own rage and pain at her betrayal on the eve of their wedding.

"I believed I deserved it then, and you have no idea of the shame that I felt, even though I had no idea or any explanation for why I kissed Lancelot. It made no sense to me, my actions, but even still being banished ... when I think of it now and growing up with another set of memories, another life with different values I can't help but rankle at the wrongness of it."

"So then you resent me?" he murmured, looking at her with open confusion.

"Maybe I do," she sighed.

He looked at her in disbelief.

"But I forgave you! And what does it matter now?"

Her eyes clouded with pain.

"B-Because now we ... you are still making the same mistakes, still so insecure Arthur, still full of doubt."

So it was back to that again. He felt like banging his head against a brick wall in frustration. He had no idea of what to say to make things right or what to do. Instead a resigned acceptance overcame him.

"Perhaps you are right," he sighed, wearily. "I'm not sure I can give you what you want Gwen," he continued, sadly, "maybe Lancelot can?"

He swallowed hard and looked away.

"Is that what you really think?" Honest disbelief softened her voice.

"Well, look at me Gwen, I'm not even half the man I was then," he pointed out bluntly, still hurting, "And you've just told me that you resent that man, and you've also pointed out that I pretty much haven't changed."

She lowered her eyes, hastily wiping the tears away with her hand. Why did this have to be so damn painful? Why couldn't they just kiss and makeup and move on? Oh that's right because Gwen wasn't sure on what she felt anymore, because she resented him.

"I'm just as confused as you are. I'm just some average guy trying to figure who the hell he is."

Emotion made it difficult for him to speak. He swallowed the sudden bitterness he felt.

"I'm just as broken as you," he continued, his voice hoarse and hollow, "maybe even more so."

She wrapped her arms around herself, rubbing them, looking as miserable as he felt.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

It sounded so final.

"Me too."

A long heavy silence followed and Arthur began shivering with cold. Her words echoing in his head, _you put me on a pedestal ... banished with no one ... because nothing has been certain between us ... you are still making the same mistakes._ Is that what she believed? That how she felt now?

"You should go inside Arthur," Gwen finally spoke in a low, sad voice.

He didn't look her way, couldn't.

It still hurt too much. She didn't trust him. That other life ... it never had mattered. It never would. He didn't matter. What they had shared ... meant nothing.

"C'mon I'll take you back to your room so you can at least put on some warmer clothes."

He hated hearing the worry and concern in her voice. He wanted to be left alone, wanted her gone.

"Just go away Gwen," he said in a low even voice. "You've said what you needed to say."

He saw the hurt flash in her eyes, no longer caring if he gave her any further reason to resent him. What did it matter? What was left to be said?

* * *

Gwen wanted to protest the resignation in his tortured expression. She hadn't meant for it to end up like this. As always he came to the worst conclusions. Yes, she did sort of resent him, which didn't make a lot of sense, something she had been wrestling with the last couple of days. And now wishing more than ever that she had never remembered, but she had. It was problematic. Back in that other lifetime it had seemed a lot simpler. Uther died, meaning they could get together. She kissed Lancelot, but then Lancelot killed himself. Unlike now, now both these people were very much alive.

"Arthur ..." she began, wringing her hands.

She watched him take a deep breath, tear his gaze away from hers as if he could no longer bear to look at her, just like before. Now he was shutting her out.

"I want to be alone," he muttered.

Nothing really had changed. _I don't want to see you ... I cannot look at you everyday._

Gwen stiffly straightened up.

"If that's what you want," she sighed and turning on her heel she quickly walked away.

Don't cry ... she would not cry. Suddenly she wanted to get far away from that place as she possibly could and hurried to her car.

What had she done? What had she been thinking? She should have said nothing.

She climbed into her car and started the engine with no idea on where she was going.

Hurt and confused and it was all her doing. Past memories mocking her, the look of betrayal in Arthur's eyes and it might have been another lifetime ago, only she had seen the same look in his eyes just now outside in the garden.

He had seen her and Lancelot hug. He had made the same conclusions. Even telling her she was more or less better off with Lancelot than him.

Tears ran down her cheeks.

Yes, she felt she had to be honest, knowing it would hurt him. She felt she couldn't move on until she had been. She had to say it in order to let go of it, but he hadn't been willing to let her finish, _just go away Gwen_. Move on to what she really wanted to say next, _I still love you ... I just need some time._

He made it perfectly clear at the end on what he thought, _you've said what you needed to say ..._ _I want to be alone_.

The finality of his words had hurt. She felt like tearing her hair out, hating everything about herself in that moment, then hating herself that she hated herself. She had no idea on what to do next, but one thing she needed was a break. A couple days away from the hospital, time spent with people she knew now. Maybe she could spend a couple of days with her Aunt Jane on the farm. It was peaceful there and calm, that's what she needed right now. She needed time to think and rationalize.

* * *

Merlin heard a knock on his door and looked up. Lancelot stood in the doorway and Merlin grinned.

"Lancelot!" he exclaimed, suddenly realizing his mistake.

Lancelot didn't seem at all surprised. He just smiled warmly and walked across the floor to his bed.

"Merlin," he breathed.

Merlin was sure his mouth had just dropped open. What did Lancelot say ... did he just call him Merlin?

"You'll catch flies," Lancelot continued amused and Merlin shut his mouth.

"You remember?"

Lancelot nodded and smiled. "Yes, I remember you and your magic Merlin, the special young man with an extraordinary gift and the kindest of hearts."

"And you walking into the veil to stop me," Merlin choked out the words.

He felt a lump lodge in this throat. This was too good to be true, Lancelot remembered.

"But how ... how did you remember?"

Lancelot sat down on the chair by his bed. Merlin looked at him curiously.

"I was the one to find you and Arthur and initially treat your injuries. Arthur came around and in his panicked state kept calling your name," he explained.

Merlin's eyes were fastened on his face, still in disbelief.

"Then it suddenly came to me," Lancelot smiled warmly, "Of course Emmett is Merlin."

Merlin felt a wide smile cross his face.

"Just like that?" he said.

Lancelot's smile widened, "Just like that."

"And you're okay with it?"

"It was a bit disconcerting at first but I always felt I was different, that I had lived before so it kind of came as no surprise, only who I had been did," his voice broke off there and he gave a wry laugh, "I hadn't expected to be Sir Lancelot."

"That's great," Merlin exclaimed.

Finally, someone to remember without being tortured by it, but like Arthur, Lancelot had died early on and not had to live out the rest of his life.

"I take it Arthur remembers then?" Lancelot asked.

Merlin nodded. "So does Gwen."

Lancelot appeared surprised by that.

"Gwen remembers?"

"Yeah."

A puzzled frown dented Lancelot's forehead. For a moment he looked lost in a thought. It couldn't be a pleasant one either considering his worried expression.

"What is it Lancelot?" he hurriedly asked.

Lancelot glanced at him.

"There's something else Merlin," he began slowly.

Uh oh. That can't be good.

"Something that disturbs me," he continued.

Definitely not good, Merlin had a sinking feeling about this.

"I died, but then I wasn't dead. I wasn't myself though ... Morgana was there," his voice broke off, confusion crossing his face.

Merlin left out a deep breath. "She called you back from the dead. You were what was known as a shade."

Lancelot's eyebrows shot up in surprise. Merlin watched the slow realization dawn on his face, obviously more memories were taking hold.

"So I did return to Camelot?" he murmured at length.

"Yes."

Lancelot quickly glanced at him, a disturbed look on his face.

"Please don't tell me Merlin that I came between Arthur and Gwen?"

Merlin's voice got stuck in his throat.

Lancelot groaned. "It's true then?"

He miserably nodded."Arthur saw the two of you kissing."

His eyes widened in shock and horror.

"What happened to Gwen?"

"Arthur banished Gwen from Camelot," Merlin muttered.

"He did what?!" Lancelot exclaimed.

"He was angry and hurt ..."

"It wasn't even her fault!"

Merlin frowned. What did he mean by that?

"Morgana gave me an enchanted bracelet to give to Gwen," he stammered, "She put it on and that's why she kissed me. Her feelings were not real."

Merlin was stunned. He hadn't known about that, but now that he thought about it, he should have. Everyone was just so quick to judge. He had been shocked by her actions and confused. It just wasn't like her but no one thought to look any further into it.

"It turned out okay in the end," he hastily said, "Arthur forgave her and they ended up getting married."

But there was still so much hurt, totally unnecessary too. And for a while it very nearly didn't turn out okay, wouldn't have, if Arthur hadn't called off his wedding to Mithian.

"Poor Gwen," Lancelot murmured, slowly shaking his head. "She must have hated herself."

She had. _I can't face him Merlin, not after what I did. I have what I deserve._

Lancelot pushing the chair back slowly rose to his feet.

"I have to see Arthur and tell him what really happened."

"Wait, Lancelot," he called after him, but Lancelot was already out the door.

Merlin sat there, still trying to come to terms with what Lancelot had just told him. Only to come to the sinking realization that Gwen had never betrayed Arthur. And oh hell, what would Arthur's reaction be when Lancelot told him! He could only imagine and it probably wouldn't be good. Arthur was currently depressed. Hearing something like that, even though he needed to, just now wasn't the best time for it.

He buzzed for the nurse. He had to get in that wheel chair and see Arthur.

* * *

Arthur was so cold by the time he returned to his room. He couldn't stop shivering, his teeth rattling in his head. He couldn't wait to get back in his bed. Curl up under the blankets, except curling up wasn't an option with that contraption on his leg. Okay then he'd bury himself under the blankets, lick his wounds and spend the rest of day feeling sorry for himself.

When he entered his room it was to see Gwaine lying back on his bed, TV remote in one hand, watching the television.

Gwaine glanced at him and grinned.

"There you are princess."

Arthur blinked. What the hell?

"G-Gwaine."

He needed to get warm and quickly. Bloody great timing too and he had some nerve.

"Get out of my bed!"

Gwaine merely smiled at him.

"Keep ya hair on," he said, swinging his legs over the side of bed.

Arthur momentarily envied the way he could so easily move his legs. He would give anything to do something that simple. He reached for his jacket, slung over the chair and pulled it on. Gwaine had the audacity to ruffle his hair.

"It's grown out, feel up for another bet," he grinned.

Arthur yanked his head back and glared up at him.

Gwaine merely shrugged before his face went all serious.

"It's good to see you Arthur."

"Likewise."

And it was, just not right now, not after his encounter with Gwen. It still hurt like hell and he really did just want to be alone. He wasn't in the mood for Gwaine's mindless chatter and jokes.

"How's Emmett?"he asked, getting off the bed.

Arthur went still. Gwaine didn't remember yet. In some ways that wasn't a bad thing. Look what it had done to Gwen.

"He's getting better each day," he replied.

"That's a relief," he exhaled, sitting down in the chair by his bed, "We've all been worried sick about him."

Funny how Gwaine was just as attached to Merlin, but weren't they all. Even he was before the memories returned.

"You haven't seen him yet?"

Gwaine shook his head.

"Thought I would visit you first, besides Lance beat me to it and I didn't want to overwhelm him."

Gwaine's eyes lowered to his legs.

"You look pretty banged up there Princess."

Arthur bristled at the word princess. Gwaine still called him that without even remembering. As if it was something in his subconscious thoughts and why had he ended up in his life again?

Were the gods taunting him? Same father, he was still in love with the same girl, a hopeless cause, and the same friends.

"Really, no shit Gwaine," he dryly drawled, "Because it's not as if I hadn't figured it out for myself."

Gwaine glanced at him.

"What's with you?" he frowned.

Arthur sighed. It wasn't fair of him to take his frustrations out on Gwaine. Truth of the matter was that he had been better friends with him this lifetime than he had been the previous one. He was a mate, and a good one.

"I don't suppose you can make yourself useful and help me onto MY bed."

He had no pride left as it was. So what did it matter if Gwaine saw him in his crippled state.

"Yeah sure," Gwaine quickly said and leapt out of the chair. "What do you want me to do?"

As always, despite the jokes, he was and always had been quick to help.

"I can get myself into bed, if you just support my leg while I'm doing it," he instructed.

Gwaine did as he instructed.

It was a relief to be back on his bed, pulling up the blankets quickly to get warm.

"Jeez Arthur," Gwaine muttered, running a hand up the back of his neck. "I never knew it was that bad for you."

Gwaine feeling sorry for him, the last thing he wanted.

"Lance had said you'd broken your leg, just I didn't know how badly."

A knock on the door saved him having to answer and Arthur looked up.

Lancelot stood in the doorway and Arthur's heart sunk. He'd had enough for one day. Coming face to face with Lancelot, and as much as he admired the man he couldn't get past the resentment. Not as if the man had remembered what he'd done either.

"Lance," Gwaine greeted.

Lancelot quickly glanced at Gwaine, "Gwaine," he acknowledged, and then to him. "Arthur."

Arthur managed to force a smile to his lips.

"Lance. Good to see you."

Lancelot stepped into the room.

"You too Arthur, glad to see you're okay."

Well, that was a matter of judgement. Sure he was okay if he discounted the facts, Gwen didn't want him, he was laid up in bed wallowing in self-pity and doubt ... sure he was just dandy.

Lancelot glanced down at Gwaine.

"Emmett wants to see you," he said to him.

It was all the prompting Gwaine needed.

"I'll call back later," he called over his shoulder on his way out of the room.

_No don't_, Arthur felt like calling back. He just wanted to be alone. So much for that!

Lancelot took the seat Gwaine had just vacated. Arthur felt puzzled by the strange look on his face, as if he had something important to tell him. It left an unsettled feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"How are you feeling?" Lancelot asked him, his eyes resting on his legs.

"Alright considering," he muttered, "Bored to death."

He noted the reflective look in Lance's eyes. What was with that? What did Lancelot possibly have to say to him?

"I remember Arthur," he finally spoke, "Everything from that past time."

Arthur sat there in stunned silence. Okay he hadn't expected that and shit. He shut his eyes. He couldn't face this. Not now.

"You are probably thinking that I betrayed you?" he continued.

Arthur didn't say anything. Well, because he had.

"That Gwen betrayed you?"

His heart beat painfully in his chest.

"But she didn't, or I. Neither one of us were in our right minds."

Arthur opened his eyes and glanced at Lancelot confused.

"I wasn't me Arthur, Morgana called me back from the dead. She had total control over me. I was a mere former shadow of myself, a shade according to Merlin. I was hers to command."

A shade … whatever that was and how did Merlin know? Was there anything out there that Merlin hadn't known about? Why did he suddenly get the feeling he wasn't going to like where this was headed?

"She used me to break you and Gwen up."

He wasn't surprised, not really. Morgana and her scheming ways, her desire for the throne and god help the person that ended up in her way.

"Even so," he began voice hoarse, "She still kissed you and that was of her choice."

Lancelot shook his head.

"Morgana gave me an enchanted bracelet to put on her wrist. The bracelet is what made her act the way she did Arthur. She would have had no control over it."

Lancelot's words horrified him. It felt like someone had knocked the air out of him. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think.

He had condemned her! Banished her! And she had been innocent! Hearing this just made it ten times worse. It felt as if his heart would break into a thousand pieces. Why was Lancelot telling him this? Not as if he could do anything about it now! What was done had been done, his only saving grace that he had taken her back, irrespective of what she'd done, because he loved her. He couldn't let her go again, and without even knowing the truth.

"Does Gwen know this," he muttered in a choked voice.

Lancelot slowly shook his head. "No, I don't think she does."

Arthur couldn't even bother stopping the tears that welled up in his eyes. His mouth felt dry.

"Are you going to tell her?"

"Only if you want me to?" Lancelot murmured.

He drew in a deep breath, feeling totally and completed shattered. "She has a right to know."

It might bring her some peace of mind. Now she would have even more just cause to resent him.

"I think you should tell her Arthur," Lancelot continued, startling him.

"What?"

He had to be joking.

"I think it would sound better coming from you," Lancelot calmly repeated.

He looked serious. Arthur swallowed. He didn't even know when he would see her next, if he would see her.

"I don't know where you and Gwen are at in your relationship now ..."

"We're not," Arthur said bluntly, "In a relationship."

Not by his lack of wanting it so, and he felt the bitterness and hurt return. He looked up to find Lancelot watching him, a thoughtful look on his face. A look Arthur well remembered. It had been a long time since he last saw it. Out of all of the knights Lancelot had been the most reflective one.

"Doesn't really work when it's one sided," he continued, and why was he telling Lancelot this? Maybe because now he had learnt that Lancelot hadn't really betrayed him, his trust towards the man was also beginning to return.

"She seemed very worried about you earlier, broke off our conversation to run after you," Lancelot spoke.

Arthur kept his mouth shut. Lancelot raised an eyebrow.

"Not the actions of someone who doesn't feel the same way."

His heart thudded painfully in his chest. And just great, now he had Lancelot giving him relationship advice.

"I'll tell her then," he sighed.

Or better still he'd get Merlin to do it.

Thinking of him.

"How did Merlin know you were a ..." he waved his hand, "what's it called again?"

"A shade."

Arthur glanced at him. "Yeah that."

"I didn't remember he had magic and that's when ..."

Arthur's eyes widened in sudden shock, "You knew he had magic!" he exploded.

A bemused smiled crossed Lancelot's face. "Yes."

Arthur scowled at him. "He told you?"

Lancelot shook his head, still bemused.

"No, I saw him use magic to kill the Griffin."

"I thought you had killed it?"

Lancelot just gave him a knowing look. Of course it would have been Merlin.

"Funny but Merlin tried to deny it too when I told him he had killed the Griffin, but then he admitted to it, and I assured him his secret was safe with me."

Arthur didn't know what to think. How many times had Merlin saved everybody's hide and no one ever knew it? He couldn't help feeling miffed that Lancelot had known. Lancelot knew more about Merlin than he ever had done.

"So the whole time you were a knight you knew Merlin had magic?"

Lancelot nodded. "Yes."

"And you never thought to tell me?"

Why was he the last person to know anything?

"It wasn't my place too, Merlin trusted me."

Something clawed at Arthur's insides. Merlin trusted Lancelot enough, but not him. It was like his so called best friend, who he had thought he had known everything about, was trading secrets with someone else.

"We are not in Camelot Arthur," Lancelot wryly said. "So did you ever find out?"

Arthur rubbed his forehead, that's right Lancelot had died years before him.

"Yeah, eventually," he returned, dragging the word out, "A few days before I died."

Days that had been painful, the feeling of acute betrayal fading as the realization of just how important and special Merlin had been in his life took hold.

* * *

The nurse had just settled him in the wheelchair when Gwaine came bursting into the room.

"Emmett!" he exclaimed and no doubt if he were not in the wheelchair Gwaine would have caught him up in some bear hug, crushing his ribs in the process.

He grinned at him. He was a sight for sore eyes. "Gwaine."

"You're alright Emmett?" A hint of worry in his voice.

Merlin nodded. "Yeah, I am now."

The relief was palpable on Gwaine's face.

"It just wasn't the same without you, dead boring those last couple of weeks," Gwaine continued and flopped down on to the chair.

Gwaine chattered, pretty much nonstop. Merlin just listened bemused. Lancelot would have told Arthur by now and there wasn't much he could do about it. So he just chilled out and enjoyed Gwaine's company.

"How long are you stuck in that wheelchair?" Gwaine asked.

"I don't know, hopefully not much longer."

He was only able to use his magic in limited amounts, which was frustrating him, but soon as he tried to use stronger magic it only weakened him. Then Gaius would berate him, _Merlin, how many times do I have to tell you?_

His eyes rested on the brown haired man, sitting by his bedside. So much like the other Gwaine, little had changed. He remembered upon his return to Camelot, bearing the bad news of Arthur's death, only to learn about Gwaine's. He then mourned the loss of another good friend. Courage and strength were gone, and he, magic, was the only survivor out of the trio. They had been bleak days. But none of that mattered now. They were here, and all together again.

He wished Gwaine remembered. It was about time that he did. He was starting to get tired of waiting for that to happen. So far he had just sat back and let the dice roll where they may fall. But what if he were to prompt Gwaine? Maybe he could get him to remember. It was worth a try.

"My name isn't Emmett," he said, cutting Gwaine off in the middle of a sentence.

Gwaine stopped chatting and glanced at him puzzled. "It's not?"

Merlin shook his head. "My real name is Merlin."

He held his breath and waited to see what Gwaine's reaction would be.

"Why did you change your name?"

He rolled his eyes. Had he really expected Gwaine to remember at just the mere mention of his name?

"It's a long story."

Gwaine gazed across the room. His eyes resting on the window, a dreamy look crossing his face.

"I knew a Merlin once," he murmured, as if trying to recall a memory.

A flicker of hope gripped Merlin.

"Yes you did, you once knew me," he pointed at his chest, "I'm Merlin."

Gwaine went very still and Merlin waited with apprehension. A range of many different emotions flickered over Gwaine's face. He watched each one with curiosity and some trepidation.

"You remember Gwaine?" he prompted him. "Do you remember me? Camelot?"

Gwaine stood up so abruptly the chair went crashing to the ground. Merlin flinched, startled.

"Holy shit!" he exclaimed, raking a hand through his hair.

Gwaine's eyes flew to his face with a look of pure astonishment.

"Y-You ..." he began, his voice shook.

His eyes widening. "You ..."

Merlin waited with baited breath. This better turn out okay. Had he done the right thing?

Gwaine's face slowly broke out into a huge smile, "Merlin," he breathed, "My friend ... yeah, I remember you, how could I ever forget you?"

Merlin smiled in return, a feeling of relief sweeping over him. "Welcome back."

Merlin was bombarded by a barrage of questions from Gwaine, _what had happened to Arthur, Percival and Leon? _

Merlin answered his questions to the best of his ability and Gwaine listened with rapt attention. It was the best feeling. Merlin couldn't help the silly grin on his face. It felt like catching up with an old best friend he hadn't seen in a very very long time.

* * *

By the time Gwaine left Merlin came to the conclusion that Arthur would no doubt know everything.

He went to see him, wondering how he had taken the news. It still shocked him. It also made him feel bad. Gwen hadn't deserved to be banished, but in those days, life was hardly fair if you were a servant or a woman. There was no such thing as equal rights.

The nurse wheeled him into Arthur's room and across to his bed before leaving.

Merlin looked at Arthur, who appeared to be sleeping, or pretending to be.

"Arthur," he whispered, and shook his shoulder.

"I don't want to talk Merlin," he mumbled, burying his face in the pillow.

Now he was really worried because all Arthur had wanted to do these last couple of weeks was talk, along with asking him one question after another. Sometimes driving him batty with the endless array of questions.

"Did Lancelot tell you what had really happened?" he persisted.

"Yes," came Arthur's muffled reply.

"And?"

Arthur raised his face, frowning.

"What part about the, _I don't want to talk_, you didn't understand Merlin?"

Merlin smiled. "All of it."

Arthur didn't look impressed.

"Besides the nurse is gone and until she returns I'm stuck here,"

"Well let me call her for you then," Arthur growled, reaching for the buzzer.

He went to press the button.

Merlin muttered a quick spell and the buzzer flew of Arthur's hands, through the air, landing in the hand basin on the far wall.

Arthur gave him an incredulous look.

"Merlin!" he exclaimed.

He smiled at the astonishment in Arthur's eyes. "You used magic," he spluttered, "You're not supposed to."

Arthur dragged himself into a sitting position, still scowling at him.

"Bring it back here right now," he ordered, pointing a finger in his face.

"I can't, I can't move the wheelchair by myself."

Arthur glared at him.

He tried hard not to smile.

"Then use magic."

"I can't, you just said I'm not supposed to."

"But you just used magic!"

"Just a tiny bit though. Think of it as nothing more than a flick of the wrist."

"Fine I'll get it then."

Merlin watched him struggle to get out of bed before reaching the conclusion that he couldn't on his own. He looked more flustered than ever. His hair standing up on end, his face growing redder by the minute.

"Merlin!" he finally roared, glaring at him.

Merlin just smiled at him. "I guess your stuck with me."

Arthur muttered something incomprehensible under his breath. He shook his head.

"You know you can be really annoying sometimes."

"So can you," he flung back at him.

Arthur frowned, leaned back and folded his arms, looking pissed off. But Merlin could already see the flicker of curiosity in his eyes. He waited for him to speak, knowing it was only a matter of time. Arthur wouldn't be able to help himself.

"Explain a tiny bit of magic to me Merlin?"

And there it was. Merlin smiled to himself, Arthur still as predictable as ever.

"And talking about magic, why was it that Lancelot knew before me?"

The smile left Merlin's face. Arthur gave him a pointed look.

Oh shit.

"Care to explain that to me Merlin?" he continued. "Oh and the part about you knowing he was a shade."

Merlin glanced over his shoulder to where the buzzer now lay. Regretting his rash decision to send it flying out of Arthur's hands.

Arthur patted his shoulder.

"We have plenty of time now, the nurse won't be back for ages, and you can't use your magic to get the buzzer back."

Merlin turned his head to look at Arthur, noting the smug look on his face. He sighed in resignation. He was in for a long night.

He took a deep fortifying breath.

"Well you see Arthur it was like this."

.

.

* * *

**A/N: Now I anxiously wait to see what people think? It was fun bringing Lancelot and Gwaine back. The last two scenes could have been longer and more thought out, but time did get the better of me. And if I didn't upload tonight then it wouldn't be happening to early next week as I will be going away for a couple of days with no internet access! **

**Reviews are always loved and very much appreciated as is feedback! I always love reading what people thought of the chapter, what scenes they liked the most and that sort of thing.**

**As for this saga of mine? It will end soon, a couple of chapters away yet. **

**Thanks so much for reading!**


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: This is a short chapter for me!**

**Thanks to everyone who has followed, favourited and reviewed this little (long) story of mine. Thanks also to guest reviews. **

**Percival fans will be happy to note that he makes a return in this chapter. I hope I do his character justice. I tried hard! **

**Sorry this chapter is several days later than normal. I was away for all of the last weekend and had a really busy week. That being said.**

**Enjoy!**

**.**

**.**

* * *

_**Chapter 22.**_

* * *

When Merlin woke up that morning, he came to the realization that Gwen had never come to see him yesterday. He began to worry. It wasn't like her not to see him for a whole day and night. Retrieving his phone from the bedside table, he sent her a text message.

An hour passed by and she hadn't replied. He next tried calling her phone, but it went straight to message bank. She must have switched her phone off. Why wouldn't she answer her phone? Who didn't she want to speak too?

Arthur. It was the first name to pop into his head. That would explain his grim mood last night. But Arthur would have told him if something had happened between him and Gwen; wouldn't he? Every time he had tried to bring up Lancelot, Gwen and the enchanted bracelet Arthur would stiffen and find some way to divert the conversation. It had been obvious he hadn't wanted to discuss it. At that time Merlin had assumed that perhaps it was because of guilt?

Arthur had also sulked over Lancelot knowing about his magic before him, much to Merlin's bemusement.

"_He was a knight of the round table he should have told me?" Arthur stated._

"_He was protecting me."_

_Arthur gave him a quick glance before staring mutedly out the window._

"_I wouldn't have had you executed," he muttered gruffly, "As if I could."_

"_No," Merlin returned slowly, "maybe not but, Uther, certainly would have."_

_Arthur, arms folded, looking unhappy. _

"_What do you mean 'maybe not'?"_

_Merlin inwardly groaned._

"_Probably better that you didn't know about my magic because anyone who did always died," he blurted out, "Remember my friend Will; he died trying to save you."_

_Slow realization crossed Arthur's face. "He said he was a sorcerer ..."_

"_To protect me," Merlin sighed, heavily. "Then there was Lancelot ..." his voice broke off there for a moment, to think he could still grieve him now, after all this time._

_He couldn't bring himself to meet Arthur's gaze. He cleared his throat. "He walked into the veil to stop me doing it, so I-I'd live and then there was my ... father." His voice wavered, tears threatened but he held them in check. "My father came to my defense, was protecting me when he was fatally wounded, and I could have prevented it." _

_He could feel his agitation growing._

_"If my life didn't have to be a lie ... if I could have been free ... I could have killed those bandits using my magic and then my father wouldn't have died, but then ..." his voice broke off there. _

"_I would have seen it," Arthur finished for him in a flat voice._

_Merlin miserably and slowly nodded._

"_So many people died protecting me, even people with magic, people who also believed in Albion, people who died at Morgana's hands to stop her finding out who Emrys was, and it was just lucky that with Gwaine's help we found Gaius in time."_

_He felt emotionally drained after sprouting all of that out. There were some moments from the past he really didn't care to talk about or remember._

_Arthur just sat there, gazing at him in quiet contemplation. _

"_I take it, Morgana had kidnapped Gaius to find out who Emrys was and not for information about Camelot?"_

_He nodded. "Yes."_

"_You were - Emrys."_

_He raised his eyes to meet Arthur's. There was no recrimination there._

"_That's what the Druids called me," he said, slowly._

_He wished he knew what Arthur was thinking? Probably something along the lines of; all those years and my bumbling manservant was a powerful magic wielding sorcerer and I had no idea._

_That thought almost brought a smile to his lips._

"_All that time and she didn't know," Arthur continued._

"_That's another reason for the secrets. Gaius told me that Morgana must never find out who I really was."_

_Arthur's eyes darkened. "But she did ... didn't she?"_

"_Mordred told her."_

_Arthur sighed and slowly shook his head. "We really screwed up there."_

"_It doesn't really matter now Arthur, we can learn from the past mistakes and move on."_

He had noticed the uncertainty in Arthur's eyes. It had puzzled him, but he hadn't thought to ask about it. Besides the nurse had walked into the room, frowned at the sight of the buzzer lying in the hand basin before retrieving it and muttering, "_How did that end up in there?"_

He'd exchanged a knowing amused smile with Arthur. Thinking how cool it was to have his best friend now a part of his shared secret. The need for lies was over, left in that past life.

* * *

A nurse entered his room with a breakfast tray, startling Merlin out of last night's memory.

She smiled sweetly at him as she placed the tray on the table.

"You are looking sprightly this morning," she commented.

He was? "Thanks."

Pulling the lid off the tray he looked down at the toast, poached eggs and began eating. Much to his surprise he suddenly found his appetite had returned with gusto. In fact he felt surprisingly better. The continuous dull ache in his head was nearly gone. His mind felt clearer than it had been since the injury. He could move his left arm with more ease. He wriggled his toes on his left foot just as Gaius walked into his room.

"Look at this Gaius," he said to him, gesturing to his toes.

"You know I think I might even be able to attempt walking."

Gaius' eyebrows shot up.

"It's too soon Merlin."

But Merlin was having none of it. He was determined to be walking, even if he had to use a crutch.

Gaius eventually came around, as Merlin knew he would. With the assistance of the nurse, a walking crutch Merlin eventually managed to take a few steps.

He looked up at Gaius, a huge grin crossing his face.

"You see, I told you I could do it."

Gaius smiled warmly and just like old times exclaimed. "Well done Merlin!"

He never would have thought such a simple accomplishment could be a big thing. Not like he'd used some spectacular magic spell. But after not walking for close to four weeks he was on a high. He'd never take walking for granted again.

"I'd forgotten how tall and gangly you are," Gaius commented.

He was gazing up at him like he was some long lost son. In many ways that was how it felt. Merlin had a sudden flash of Gaius' words before he had died that other lifetime, '_I will never forget you ... Merlin.'_

And his first words meeting him again this life time, _'I could never forget you.'_

The people who mattered to him the most were now back in his life once more. This time he would get to grow old with them, as it should be.

"At the quick rate you are recovering Merlin soon you will be discharged from the hospital," Gaius continued. "I would like you to come and stay with me till you are fit to return to your Army duties."

Merlin was touched, a warm smile crossing his face.

"I would like that too."

* * *

By the time midday came around and still no sign of Gwen, Merlin came to the conclusion that something was definitely wrong. It must have something to do with Lancelot remembering and telling Arthur about what had really happened. Maybe Lancelot had also told Gwen?

Either way Arthur had to know something. Or he was the cause of it.

He wanted to walk to Arthur's room but the nurse wouldn't allow it.

"You have to take it slowly and not over exert yourself."

He resigned himself to being pushed in the wheelchair.

Arthur hadn't moved from his bed _again_. It was beginning to become a regular thing. For how much longer would he wallow in his own self-pity? Not that Merlin blamed him. It was sort of natural after what had happened to him. But he needed to snap out of it.

He was watching television without paying attention to it. Obviously his thoughts were taken up with other things.

Merlin cleared his throat and Arthur glanced at him. His expression always had been an open book to Merlin. He saw the lost, lonely look in his eyes. Arthur always did have a tendency to doubt himself, _'what would you do if you were me? ... I'm asking you Merlin.'_

"I thought you would have been up whizzing about in the wheel chair by now," he spoke.

A slight frown dented Arthur's forehead.

"The novelty's worn off," he returned.

Okay, so Arthur was still moping. Merlin figured getting straight to the point was the best way to go.

"Have you seen Gwen at all today or yesterday?" he asked him.

Arthur's posture stiffened. "I saw her yesterday morning; why?"

"Just that she didn't call by to see me yesterday, and it's not like her?"

Arthur's face went sort of still, but Merlin noticed the way his jaw clenched. Arthur last saw her yesterday morning, and Gwen had been strangely absent since then. Something must have happened between them.

"Maybe she decided to go away for a couple of days, she is on R&R, maybe she went to see her brother?"

"She would have told me."

"Of course because she tells you everything," Arthur said rather abruptly.

Merlin frowned. He was now convinced something had gone down between the two of them. Whatever it was, it obviously hadn't been good.

"What did you say to her?" he asked.

Arthur was sullen. Another definite sign

"What makes you think I said anything?"

Merlin continued to observe him.

"You have that look on your face, you know the pouting one."

Arthur shot him a glare.

"I don't pout!"

He couldn't help the amused smile that crossed his face. "Yes you do."

Arthur sighed and shook his head. "Alright well she has been acting all weird the last couple of days and I saw her hug Lancelot and I got kind of jealous and then ... well it's complicated."

"So, you said something bad to her?"

Arthur didn't say anything but his expression said it all.

"She said she resented me," he pointed out in his defense.

"Why?"

"I don't know," Arthur sighed, "Don't you know everything about her?"

Merlin tilted his head to the side, contemplating Arthur's words.

"She doesn't always tell me everything," he replied, "And I'm not a mind reader."

"What - that's not one of your magical talents?" Arthur lightly quipped.

Merlin was about to come up with a snappy reply when he saw the hint of amusement in Arthur's eyes. Arthur didn't resent his relationship with Gwen, that he was sure of.

"She does have a tendency to bottle things up inside," he slowly returned. "Make out like everything is fine when it's not."

He gazed out the window as memories drifted through his mind.

_They still had a kingdom to run. It wasn't always smooth sailing. In the early days, after Arthur had died, not everyone approved of who he was. This so called sorcerer, something to be feared and wary off, he was an abomination to the so called laws of nature. As much as Gwen fought on his behalf she also took a considerable amount of flak for it._

_She had lost Arthur._

_She was carrying his child._

_She was fighting for his cause, fighting against nearly 30 years of an ingrained total intolerance towards magic users. _

"There were days," he murmured out loud without even realizing it, "that the council members shot her down in flames."

_They didn't want to be told by a woman, and a former serving girl at that. As much as she had the support of the faithful knights like Leon and Percival, there were still so many that didn't think she was fit to be Queen._

"She could give back as good as she had received."

_She had to prove herself._

"She never once wavered in her fight to have the laws of Camelot changed when it came to magic."

_He had admired her, that strength she possessed. She couldn't remain the sweet unassuming young girl she'd once been. She's was now Queen, she had to rule a kingdom. She had to fight against so much prejudice._

"Sometimes it took a toll on her, days where she was burden down by what was expected of her."

He glanced at Arthur, seeing the curiosity in his eyes.

"There were some that wanted me burnt at the stake for being what I was, and if it hadn't been for Gwen ... I probably would have been."

Arthur's jaw clenched and his eyes clouded with emotion.

"So as to what she might resent Arthur," he continued softly, "Maybe you for dying, and her having to make the tough decisions."

Merlin's words had rattled him. He could picture Gwen standing up to the council members, and he well knew what they could be like. She would fight to save Merlin, as much as he would have done if he'd lived. But he hadn't and she had to go into battle with her own people, alone.

He could just picture her facing them all, head held high despite her short stature. He remembered that look, with fondness. The way she had so adeptly put him in his place that first time he had stayed in her house, _'You have no idea about how rude and arrogant you can be ... I'm not ashamed to be a servant. At least I'm not a liar.'_

She had stood, so defiant despite the hesitation in her eyes. In that moment he suddenly found himself admiring everything about her. No one spoke to him like that. No one put him in his place, except Merlin. But he didn't have to impress him. Merlin just accepted him for what he was. Gwen on the other hand, he found himself wanting to please. Her opinion mattered to him, though as to why it did, he had no idea. She was natural, herself and so very beautiful in her own way. Different to women of nobility, they were often proud but haughty. Gwen had her pride too, but hers was born of a very definite belief in herself and what was right. He had never encountered anyone like her before. She really did _surprise _him in so many different ways. But that was then. And this was now.

"Everything's changed Merlin," he sighed wearily.

He wished it hadn't.

"Some things have," Merlin replied, "But one thing I do know Arthur," he continued, "Is that you should never doubt her love for you."

Now he felt worst than ever.

He sighed deeply. "I told her to go away."

"Don't worry, she's had worst than that before," Merlin remarked.

Arthur frowned, _don't worry, _if only! Merlin gave him a knowing look.

"You've said and done a lot worst before and she still forgave you."

Of course, he'd only banished her from Camelot for a crime, as he only just found out yesterday; she hadn't committed.

"We don't always rule with our heads, emotions tend to get the better of us and we don't always make the right decisions in the heat of the moment."

He would have a list a mile long of all the times he'd gotten it wrong, Arthur bitterly mused.

"I should know Arthur," Merlin continued and he glanced at him, noticing the shadows in his eyes.

He recalled their conversation from last night. How he had talked about all the people who had died protecting him. It had made Arthur think of all the times Merlin had been willing, nearly died, in his attempts to protect him. He had been so foolishly brave. There were so many things he wanted to say to the young man, but he never had been good with words. His fondness, something he never would have admitted to in the Camelot days, for the boy often came out in playful punches. He had teased him, he had even been mean to him, but in truth he would have been totally lost without him.

When he was dying, knowing all hope was lost all he had wanted was for Merlin to hold him. He wouldn't die alone. Merlin was with him. Merlin was and always would be with him.

He gripped the young man's shoulder as sudden emotion got the better of him. He swallowed the lump in his throat.

"You couldn't save everyone Merlin," he spoke, his voice cracking.

"You did everything you could."

Merlin blinked, a hint of tears glistening on his eyelashes.

"Yet, it wasn't enough," he spoke, so softly that Arthur just barely caught the words.

Did Merlin still blame himself after all this time? He shouldn't. It was wrong of him to do so. Arthur was beginning to get the picture that Merlin carried the weight of the world upon his thin shoulders. He really needed to stop doing that.

* * *

Arthur was tempted to message Gwen after Merlin had to leave for his physical therapy session. He picked up his phone. Berated himself, don't be daft. What the hell would he say? He put the phone back down. Stared at it for a long tortuous moment before picking it up again, should he? He could simply ask how she was. Tell her he was sorry. And in more ways than one now Lancelot had told him the truth about the kiss he exchanged with Gwen. It still ate away at him. Of course she wouldn't have betrayed him. The shame she would have lived with at that time, and all of it so unnecessary. It was that thought alone that bothered him the most.

"Looks like a tough decision going on there princess?" spoke a voice.

He glanced up to see Gwaine loitering in the doorway.

He hastily put the phone back on his bedside table. Gwaine walked into his room, his eyes resting on his face. There was an odd look there. It kind of made the hairs stand up on the back of Arthur's neck.

"I don't believe it," Gwaine eventually murmured with a shake of his head.

Arthur frowned.

"You," Gwaine gestured with his hand, "King Arthur."

He froze.

Gwaine remembered? His mouth dropped open.

A huge grin crossed Gwaine's face.

"You might want to shut your mouth before you catch flies," he remarked.

Arthur shut his mouth, still stunned.

"B-But how ..." he stammered.

"Merlin."

Naturally, Arthur silently mused.

"He made me remember," Gwaine continued. "I could hardly believe it."

How the hell had Merlin managed to get Gwaine to remember? But then Gwaine had been fondly attached to Merlin, protective too.

"I suppose you also knew Merlin had magic?" he grumbled.

Sudden shock crossed Gwaine's face. Well at least that was something, Gwaine hadn't known.

"Merlin had magic?" he spluttered.

It was kind of amusing to see the stupefied look on his face.

"He's a sorcerer?"

"I believe he's a warlock."

Gwaine frowned. "What's the difference?"

Arthur really had no idea. There were so many labels, magician, wizard and sorcerer, but what did any of it really matter? Merlin was just Merlin and he had magic. That was it in a nutshell. None of those labels applied, most held too many bad connotations that didn't sum up Merlin.

He looked back at Gwaine who had his phone out.

"What are doing?"

"Googling Warlock."

Arthur rolled his eyes.

"They are just words Gwaine."

But Gwaine's eyes were glued to the screen.

"Warlocks are bad Arthur," he eventually said.

Arthur merely snorted.

"They practice dark magic," Gwaine continued.

"It's just a god damn myth Gwaine," he snapped. "Put that bloody phone away."

Gwaine looked at him surprised.

"Look at you, all so protective over him now."

Arthur snorted, again, to cover up how close to the truth Gwaine was.

"But then you always had been, even if you could never admit it," he continued.

Gwaine gazed off into space.

"He's always been sort of special and different, guess that's what I liked about him. He wasn't judging."

"And definitely not evil," Arthur finished as a memory took hold.

The old woman sorcerer, Merlin no doubt. _'There is no evil in sorcery, only in the hearts of man.'_

How true those words were. He could see it now. An amused smile crossed his face, the memory of Merlin, an old women ... how did he pull that one off?

"What are you smiling at?" Gwaine interrupted.

He shook his head.

"Nothing, just a memory."

"Speaking of memories, let's go get Merlin and ask him questions."

As much as Merlin would no doubt answer Gwaine's questions, he didn't want to burden him. Merlin had enough to contend with, and everyone wanted a piece of him.

"Later."

"C'mon Arthur get your precious royal ass out of that bed."

"I'm not royal anymore," he protested.

Gwaine merely grinned, amusement in his eyes.

"Still precious though, still rich and still have ..."

"An ass for a father," Arthur finished for him.

Gwaine's head jerked towards him, his jaw clenching.

"Yeah, you do," he ran a hand up the back of his neck. "Funny how that goes ..."

He suddenly went still, a horrified look crossing his face.

"What about Morgana?!"

"She doesn't remember."

Gwaine's eyes widened. "What if she does?"

"She might not."

Gwaine let out a deep breath. "Let's hope she doesn't."

Given Gwen's reaction when she remembered, Arthur could only shudder at the thought of Morgana remembering!

"She killed me, tortured me till I died," Gwaine slowly murmured.

Arthur was now the one to be horrified. Morgana did what? She killed Gwaine.

"Why?"

"She wanted to know the whereabouts of you."

That meant Gwaine died on the same day as him? Merlin hadn't told him that, but then he hadn't thought to ask. He had just assumed everyone else had survived.

"Did she find you?" Gwaine asked.

Arthur nodded. "Merlin killed her."

Least he had died knowing that the kingdom would now be safe. As much as it had saddened him to see Morgana die, but there was no redemption left for her. He wished it hadn't ended that way. Now, present day she was as sweet as she had been before Morgause corrupted her, before the hatred ate away her soul.

"Then you lived?" Gwaine asked.

Arthur shook his head. "No, I died."

Gwaine went strangely quiet as he absorbed this information. After several minutes had passed, he said one word that summed it up. "Shit."

* * *

Gwaine brought a reluctant Percival to see him later that day. Merlin looked up at Gwaine suspiciously.

"Make him remember Merlin, because I've been trying to explain it to him and he doesn't believe me," was the first thing he said.

Poor Percival, stood there a look of pure confusion on his face before mumbling.

"Good to see you, Emmett, glad you're going to be okay."

"Um ... thanks."

Gwaine lightly smacked him over the back of the head.

"It's Merlin, Percy!"

Percy glared at him. "Hit me again and it will be the last thing you do."

Both of Gwaine's hands went up, "Alright, but I'm doing this for your own good."

Percival just frowned, looking more confused than ever, as if Gwaine had lost his mind.

Merlin felt sorry for him. He was the only one to know why it would be harder for Percival to remember. After all Percival had lived a good number of years after Arthur and Gwaine had died.

"Gwaine, here," Percival gestured at him, "Tells me we have all lived before and that we, I, was a knight of the round table."

Merlin, unlike Gwaine, knew how to tread carefully.

"You don't remember it?"

Percival shook his head.

"Gwaine's probably making it up then."

Gwaine's eyes widened in astonishment, "Merlin!" he exclaimed.

"You can't force him to remember."

"I want him to remember, because his ugly mug was the last thing I saw before I died."

Percival shook his head but his face had paled somewhat.

"You don't think I've not wanted you guys to remember since we first met up again at the cottage," Merlin stated. Not realizing his slip up until the words were already uttered.

It was too late to take them back now.

"You've remembered all along?" Gwaine gasped in disbelief. "But how ...?"

Merlin took a deep fortifying breath. He had to say it. It was bound to come out sooner or later.

"Because I never died," he murmured.

Gwaine now appeared shell shocked, speechless. He stood there, mouth hanging half open.

"H-How is that possible?"

"I was immortal."

_Immortal, _that word stirred up a forgotten memory. _No mortal blade can kill me. _Random flashes of memory pierced Percival's head, making it feel as if it were about to explode. _The woman with the long dark hair, striding through the forest, he was going to kill her or die trying._

Percival, dazed, slowly began to sink down on a nearby chair.

_Gwaine dying, him, carrying his body back to Camelot, mourning his loss, praying that Arthur and Merlin would be safe, that they hadn't screwed things up._

_But Arthur was dead. The bad news Merlin had brought back with him from Lake Avalon. The young man they had all become too attached to, not more than an emotional wreck._

_Merlin had killed Morgana. He was a sorcerer. But ... he was still Merlin. He had saved Camelot. _

_Gwen was made Queen. He remembered chanting the words, his heart breaking. "Long live the queen. Long live the queen.' Arthur, Gwaine, Elyan and Lancelot ... all dead, but he alone had to go and survive. He wished he hadn't. Death would have been a blessed relief compared to the grief he felt in his heart. _

"Percy?"

He heard the voice, it sounded distant and faraway. It sounded like Merlin.

"Percy!"

The voice was more insistent this time.

'_Percival!' Merlin yelled, running hard in his haste to reach him, 'Don't you give up!'_

_Audric, the King, was dead. It was over. Camelot had fallen._

_He wouldn't fight anymore. The sword slipped from his fingers. He was done. He would die in battle like the knights before him, his long lost friends._

'_Percival!'_

'_Just let me die Merlin, it's my time, I'm an old man now,' were his last thoughts as a sword pierced into his abdomen. _

_His body fell. Merlin caught him, as he knew he would. The one thing they shared, their undying loyalty for Camelot, and a very old kinship that had stood the test of time._

_Merlin's wide pained blue eyes the last thing he saw, eyes that had always been and always would be, before he felt death claim him._

"What's wrong with him?!" Gwaine demanded a panicked edge to his voice. "Why does he look like he's in a trance?"

Merlin waved his hand in front of Percival's face. His eyes were open, just unseeing.

"You wanted him to remember ..." his breath catching in his throat, "now I think he is."

Gwaine raked a hand through his hair.

"This didn't happen to me when I remembered."

Merlin glanced at him. "He lived a lot longer than you."

Obviously that thought hadn't crossed Gwaine's mind.

"How old was he?"

"I'm not sure, mid 60's I think."

"How did he die?"

Merlin took a deep painful breath.

"In the final battle, with Audric; the day Camelot fell." His voice not more than faint whisper with the repressed memories he no longer wanted to recall for the pain they held.

_He had been too late ... Audric. He saw him fall._

'_No!' he had roared, eyes glowing gold, sending the enemies surrounding Audric flying through the air._

'_How did he escape?' he heard Borin, leader of the Picts, yell as they scattered from his wrath._

_None of that mattered now. Only Audric; he had to ... could save him._

_He reached Audric, not caring about anything else happening around him. He pulled his body onto his lap, cradling him, his hands fluttering as they stroked his hair._

'_I ... c-can ... I will ... save you,' he murmured hoarsely, in a breathless voice from running so hard. _

_Audric's eyes opened, a slow pained smile crossing his face. _

'_Merlin ... y-you're alive.'_

_Raising a hand, Audric reached out for his. Merlin slipped his hand into his, clutching his fingers tightly, willing him to live. The smile left Audric's face, to be replaced with a deep searing pain._

"_Get out of here Merlin," he gasped._

_Merlin shook his head, tears filling his eyes._

'_No, I'm not leaving you ...'_

'_Y-You ... must ... Merlin. It's too late for me.'_

_Audric's eyes slowly began to close. Such a fierce agony filled Merlin's whole being. No ... he couldn't go through this again!_

'_Audric.' His voice breaking on a strangled sob._

_He shook him. Audric's eyes opened. It felt like he was looking into Arthur's eyes. It made the loss even worse._

'_Save Esme ... my children ... Merlin ... I-I ... Merlin ...'_

_A single tear leaked out the corner of his eye before that all too familiar glazed looked filled them; the look Merlin only knew too well as death. Horror and grief swept over him. He held the Kings lifeless body tightly to his chest, sobbing. The boy he had raised, the boy that had meant everything to him, the boy that had filled the void in his heart after Arthur had died._

'_I'm so sorry ... so sorry ..." his voice not more than a mere whisper on the chilled winter breeze._

_He looked up and saw Percival. The agony of what had happened entrenched on the lines of his face; such sorrow. He saw the sword fall from Percival's hand. _

_Letting go of Audric's body, he began to run towards Percival. This couldn't be happening. He wouldn't let this happen._

'_Percival ... don't you give up!'_

"Merlin!" Gwaine snapped beside him, startling him, "Now you are doing it."

Merlin shook his head. It felt like a million shards of glass had embedded into his heart. He rubbed his chest, pushing the painful memories away, his throat feeling raw as he met Gwaine's eyes.

"Sorry, just ... was, lost in the past," he murmured hoarsely, his voice catching in his throat.

The tears burned at the back of his eyes. If he had known awakening their memories would also awaken his own maybe he wouldn't have been so quick to do so.

"If you had magic how come you just didn't blow the enemy to kingdom come, like you did in Camlaan?"

Trust Gwaine to ask him that.

He swallowed. "I-I was ... somewhat detained."

_Stupid! He had been so stupid to trust the young sorcerer. Would he never learn!_

_Now he was chained to the dungeon wall by magical restraints._

_He had to save Camelot. Before it was too late, with much bitterness Merlin realized it might and probably would already be too late._

"What do we do?" Gwaine demanded.

Merlin tried to shake his head free of the memory. It was weird. Almost like his memories were becoming entwined with Percival's.

He saw, out of the corner of his eye, Gwaine grab a glass of water before throwing it over Percival.

Percival blinked. He spluttered, his eyes quickly taking in his surroundings as if he'd just woken out of a dream.

Merlin managed a smile. "Welcome back to the land of the living."

His eyes widened. "M-Merlin," he stammered, smiling slowly in his astonishment.

"Y-You're ..."

"Young," Merlin finished for him.

Percival nodded. Merlin rested his hand on his shoulder.

"So are you my old friend."

"Ahem!" Gwaine interrupted, "You two are not the only people in this room."

Both Merlin and Percival glanced at Gwaine, who stood, arms folded, the mock serious look on his face giving way to a broad smile.

"You remember now?!"

Percival swallowed, "Yes."

His eyes slowly travelling to Merlin's, they exchanged a knowing look. A look that spoke of long ago, shared moments, shared memories and shared pain.

"That's great!" Gwaine enthused, patting Percival on the back. "Now we can all talk about the good old days."

* * *

The next two days were the strangest and in many ways the best. Instead of there being just him and Merlin in the recreation room, now they were often joined by Gwaine, Lancelot and Percival. If weather permitting they would sit outside in the rose garden, which was a better option. They had already received a number of odd looks from other patients by the strangeness of their conversations.

They discussed many things.

Percival talked about his son, how he had taught him the skill of sword fighting. Arthur would eagerly listen, but it was like hearing a story he couldn't identify with.

"He was as good as you Arthur," Percival had said.

In fact the big man was a lot chattier than he used to be. But both he and Merlin would grow strangely quiet when the discussion came to the fall of Camelot. Arthur noted the look Percival and Merlin would exchange, a shared understanding and knowledge that would leave him feeling a bit miffed. He'd find himself wishing he'd been there. But he didn't allow his mind to linger on those thoughts, best not too. He just wanted to be happy and content with being in the company of old friends.

Gwaine, who was always overly curious, would pick Merlin's brains about everything, with questions like, _'what happened next? ... then what Merlin?_'

Merlin always answered, but there were times he'd see the shadows in his eyes. Arthur would feel compelled to rescue him.

"Leave him be Gwaine, he's answered enough."

Gwaine would merely give him an amused look. Arthur, knowing exactly what was going through his mind, 'so overprotective of him Princess.'

It was kind of like old times, same people, different location, newer memories. A whole different world and one far removed from Camelot.

"Merlin and the dragon was a sight to behold," Lancelot was talking. "I swear the dragon purrs when in his presence and Merlin is so tiny compared to this giant fire breathing creature."

"No he doesn't purr," Merlin scoffed with a shake of his head.

Arthur tried to picture the dragon purring and was having a hard time of it.

"He would do your every bidding," Lancelot continued.

"Only because I showed him mercy, and then I commanded him to do the same."

The dragon he was supposed to have killed, Arthur dryly mused.

"He wasn't always happy with what I commanded him to do. He roared in rage when I told him to give me the spell to heal Morgana."

Arthur sat up, bolt right, in his chair. "You what!" he exclaimed.

Merlin paled slightly, realizing his slip up.

"I couldn't bear seeing everyone's grief," he stammered, guilt written over his face.

Arthur briefly recalled Merlin's words from the other day, _'we don't always rule with our heads, emotions tend to get the better of us ... I should know.'_

"You were not to know what she would become," Lancelot reassured.

"But the dragon did warn me, and often, about her; how dangerous she would be."

If Morgana had died then ... how different things could have been. So much suffering and death could have been averted.

Damn, Merlin should have let her die! He felt a swift sudden anger towards him.

He glared at him. He could see Merlin was waiting for the accusations that would be flung his way, bracing himself for it. There was also a hint of vulnerability in the depths of his eyes.

"What would you have done if you have been in my shoes Arthur?" he softly asked, and the anger left as quick as it had come. Trust Merlin to fling his own words back in his face, but he was right.

He sighed deeply, "I would have done the same."

Relief flooded Merlin's eyes.

"You could control dragons," Gwaine enthused. "How?"

He was like a big kid being let lose in a lolly shop.

"My father was a Dragonlord, it's a gift passed down from father to son."

Again there was that shadow in Merlin's eyes. Arthur was able to recognize it, now he had gotten to know so much more about Merlin. How quick he was at covering up his pain.

"So that's why you could control Morgana's dragon?" Gwaine continued.

"She was only Morgana's pet, but as I was her Dragonlord she had to do as I commanded."

Gwaine looked impressed.

"She was a girl dragon?"

"And as temperamental as such."

The other guys laughed.

"She was a white dragon, and very young when she found Morgana; healing her. She only did what was in her heart."

Arthur's eyes were transfixed to Merlin's face. Warlocks being evil, he silently scoffed, yeah right. Merlin proved otherwise. He could just sit there and listen to Merlin's stories all day long. Sometimes a glimmer of shame would wash over him as to how ignorant he was of the young man's abilities.

Merlin was nothing short of amazing and he hadn't even known. Well he had in part, just that he never wanted to acknowledge it. Not openly. Those sorts of sentiments and feelings were for girls, not warriors like himself.

And he obviously loved dragons. It was hard to imagine the skinny young man commanding such a giant beast. Armies would stop and surrender at the power he held. Yet power was something he never once abused. He held more power than even his father could ever hope to possess.

Merlin so much more powerful than well ... anyone, yet Merlin so humble, it still did his head in.

"Can you do some magic for us Merlin?" Gwaine asked.

Arthur's head shot up.

"No!"

Gwaine frowned, "Why not?"

"Because he can't use magic till he's better, it weakens him."

"Not even just a tiny bit?" Gwaine persisted.

Merlin glanced at him, as if waiting for his permission.

"No."

Gwaine scowled at him.

"You know he's not your servant anymore," he pointed out. "You can't order him around."

Lancelot chuckled. "As if anyone could order Merlin around, he never does as he's told."

Arthur smiled at him, finally someone else who knew this. "Thank you Lancelot."

"Yeah, I guess it's true," Merlin admitted, and reaching out a hand he plucked a rose bud from the nearest bush.

Arthur watched as Merlin's fingers closed over the rose bud. His eyes briefly flashed to gold then back to blue. Uncurling his fingers, Merlin revealed a now fully blossomed yellow rose.

Gwaine looked impressed.

Merlin handed him the rose. "You can keep it."

"He'll probably sleep with it," Percival teased.

Gwaine glared at him, but he still tucked the rose safely in his shirt pocket.

"What else can you do," he chirped.

"No! That's it," Arthur enforced.

He turned to Merlin, pointing a finger in his face, "No more magic tricks."

Merlin held up his hands in surrender. "Yes Sire."

"Party popper," Gwaine muttered alongside him.

A brief silence descended, everyone appearing lost in their own thoughts for a moment, watching the sun sink lower in the sky.

"It just isn't the same without Leon," Percival sighed, "I wonder if he exists now, like us."

"I'm sure he does, and I'm sure it's only a matter of time before he makes an appearance," Arthur replied.

He had to. It wouldn't be the same without him.

"And Elyan?" Percival continued.

"He's still Gwen's brother, I've met him," Merlin piped up. "If Gwen remembers then I'm sure Elyan will before too long."

Lancelot turned to face Arthur, his expression serious.

"Have you told Gwen yet?" he asked.

Arthur shook his head. "No, I haven't seen her."

Though he wanted to and badly.

"Merlin told me she's gone to spend a few days with her Aunt."

No doubt Gwen had gone there to escape for a while. Maybe a few days break is what she needed, even him for that matter. He only hoped she would soon return and that they could fix things between them.

"I will tell her Lancelot, you have my word."

Lancelot nodded. "And I know how true to your word you are Arthur."

* * *

Merlin hadn't felt so alive in a long while. Who would have thought that they would all be sitting around in a rose garden, discussing a world that had existed well over a thousand years ago? A world they had once lived in, and the world they were now currently living in. It left a warm tingly feeling in his chest. Yes, there was pain back there, maybe and probably pain to come. His eyes rested on Gwaine, Percival and Lancelot, chatting and laughing.

He looked over to where Arthur sat. Their eyes met and held. The future, it was uncertain, but none of that really mattered. What mattered the most was that they all had found each other again, who they were, what they were and the balance had been miraculously restored.

A slow smile crossed Merlin's face. A silent message exchanged between the two of them, _everything will be fine_.

He gave Arthur a simple nod.

Arthur gave a crooked wry smile and nodded in return.

* * *

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.

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**A/N: I loved writing this chapter, some of the knights of the round table reunited. When it came to Percival remembering I wanted to do it justice and thought long and hard about it. I wanted him to have more of a pivotal role after Arthur and Gwaine died. I hope I achieved this in the Merlin/Percival scene. **

**I know some parts are still sad. It's hard to get around that! I really don't mean to make it so sad, just that when I try to imagine how it really could have been, there are just sad moments. **

**Please review! I'm really keen to hear what people thought of this chapter, now they all remember (well not quite all). I hope it turned out okay? Let me know what you liked.**

**This story will end in a couple of chapters. Some people have asked for a sequel. It could be possible if enough people are interested.**

**Thanks for reading! **


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N: This chapter is much longer than I had intended! That always seems to happen to me. This chapter is also a bit like a roller coaster ride. It has a bit of everything in it!**

**So the saga continues. Enjoy!**

**.**

**.**

* * *

_**Chapter 23.**_

* * *

Merlin watched the conflicting emotions cross Percival's face. Just two days since he had remembered. They hadn't had the chance to be alone, until this morning. Arthur was having x-rays. Gwaine and Lancelot hadn't turned up yet, leaving just him and Percival.

They sat in a far corner of the recreation room, the warmth of the morning sun shone through the window. Almost reminiscent of moments they had sat in his chambers discussing politics. The use of his magic, which Percival had been curious about, and not having grown up in Camelot with its harsh bigoted views, was more open-minded than the rest of the nobles and knights. Merlin had cherished those moments then. His eyes rested on the big man. He was still quiet, yet thoughtful. In many ways seeing him here, alive again, was surreal. Arthur, Gwen, Lancelot, Gwaine and now Percival, all remembering like he hoped they would.

"Are you sorry that you remember?" Merlin asked him.

"No ... but in some ways yes," Percival slowly returned.

His eyes met Merlin's. "It's hard to grasp, two lives ... then and now."

To Merlin it had always been the now, a now of many many years, but the waiting was over. He might not have died, but he perfectly understood what Percival meant by the _then_ and _now_. Since they had all returned, the _then_ had a way of haunting him.

"What about you Merlin?" Percival asked, "What happened after I died?"

This is exactly how the _then _haunted him. Talking about those times only brought the memories back. It was like re-living it all over again, and again. He tried to discuss only the relevant parts, leaving out the personal feelings of loss and pain. He could only go there so many times.

* * *

Arthur wheeled himself into the recreation room. He spied Percival and Merlin in the corner. They looked in deep conversation. He reflected on the conversations that had taken place over the last few days. Merlin who had always been, Percival had lived long enough to see the fall of the Kingdom. Both had played an active role in his son's life. The son he would never live to see and it was hard to imagine that life had gone on after he'd died. Not that he would expect it not to, just that he couldn't quite grasp it. He wouldn't say he exactly felt miffed at times, more like a tad jealous. If that was the right word, which was really crazy when he thought about it, because what did any of it matter now ... only it did.

Least having Gwaine die the same day as him, and Lancelot a number of years prior to that, he wasn't the only one left in the dark. It also seemed that those who had lived on carried a fair amount of shared pain. Even now, watching Merlin and Percival, he could see a strong connection between them. A connection that Percival hadn't had with Merlin before, but then he had lived another 39 years. He had obviously in that time built a trusting friendship with him.

Merlin, didn't just belong to him, he was part of everyone. And, yes, he was stupid because he really couldn't help feeling envious of their time with Merlin with his being cut so short.

What if he hadn't died? Would he have made Merlin his advisor? He would have known everything about him, there would be no more need for lies. As for their friendship, it could have been more open and honest. They would have had years to build up the trust again.

He would have been the one to teach his son how to wield a sword. Comfort Gwen when she needed it.

Even Gwen, who he hadn't seen for three days, had so many more years with Merlin. Thinking of Gwen, which he had tried hard not to, failing miserably, made him wonder when she would be back? Would he see her again?

Time was ticking by. She would leave for Camp Bastion is just over a week. He wouldn't see her at all for a good three months. Surely she would see him, or at least Merlin? If he weren't so proud he'd call her. But he had no idea on what to say. He was even worse at expressing his feelings in a phone conversation than he was face to face. He was bound to say something wrong.

Merlin glanced in his direction and waved, the wide grin crossing his thin face dispelling his doubts. Sudden warmth filled his heart. Funny, how just one person could do that, how that one person could come to mean so much to him. He had had his knights, his Kingdom, an adoring wife but none of it would have been the same without Merlin in his life.

* * *

Arthur's days were not spent in so much misery now. Having Gwaine, Lancelot and Percival here had improved his frame of mind, forced him out of his current lethargy. Their many conversations, time spent in each other's company easing his predicament with his physical injuries. Yes, he was frustrated by his inability to move freely around. It wouldn't be forever. He was counting down the days till he could get around using crutches, which should be any day now. Merlin was able to hobble around on a walking stick. He had envied him that, but at the same time felt relieved. Merlin was getting better. He didn't look like death warmed up anymore. There was colour in his face, a twinkle in his eye; generally that of a mischievous nature.

"I think we are making some headway," Arthur had said to him yesterday.

It had been four weeks, so they should.

* * *

They were playing cards. Gwaine was cheating. Arthur called him out on it. They argued. Merlin glanced at Percival who rolled his eyes.

Lancelot shook his head, a bemused look on his face.

Merlin returned his attention to the cards in his hand, smiling to himself; something's really just didn't change.

"Tell me Merlin, did you ever use your magic to cheat?" Gwaine asked.

Merlin, startled by the question, glanced up from the cards in his hands. Everyone was looking at him, especially Arthur. He felt his face reddened.

Gwaine grinned. "I knew it."

He put an arm around Merlin. "Spill the beans."

"Do tell us, Merlin," Arthur drawled.

He swallowed, knowing there was no way out of this one.

"Well ... there was the dice game," he began.

Arthur straightened up, realization dawning.

"The one when you won all my money?!"

A slow sheepish smile crossed Merlin's face, "Uh, yeah."

"You cheated!" he admonished.

Gwaine laughed at the outraged look on Arthur's face.

"With magic?" Arthur continued, dumbfounded.

"Yeah, right in front of you and none of you were the wiser for it."

Arthur's eyes narrowed. Uh oh, maybe he shouldn't have added that part.

He folded his arms and gave him a pointed look. "You can pay me back, Merlin."

Merlin's jaw fell open. "W-What ..." he spluttered.

"You heard."

Was he serious? Looking at Arthur's set face ... he must be.

"Fine then, I think I still have it."

Arthur appeared startled. "You kept it?" There was a catch in his throat, sudden warmth in his eyes, as if to say, '_all these years later and you still have it'_.

"It's in my antique shop, somewhere."

"You have an antique shop?" Gwaine exclaimed, eyes lighting up at the thought.

Merlin nodded. "I collected a lot of stuff over the years, figured one day it would be worth something, part nostalgia too and well I had to make a living somehow."

There was that funny odd whimsical look in Arthur's eyes. As if Arthur would forget that he, Merlin, had lived for so long, and then suddenly remembering that he had.

"We gotta go see this shop," Gwaine enthused.

Merlin could picture Gwaine bouncing around in his shop, touching things, probably breaking things.

"You still have any swords from Camelot?" he asked.

"I only had the one."

_There was no time to collect memorabilia in his haste to get Esme and her children to safety. He only had the sword he carried on him. He had, many years later, returned to what had once been Camelot castle. It stood empty, covered in moss, looking sad and forlorn. His feet had crunched upon the many loose rocks that littered the castle floors. Voices from a bygone era echoed in his head. For some strange reason he'd found himself heading towards Gaius' room. The wooden door, no longer there. Cobwebs hung from the ceiling. He'd moved, dreamlike, up the steps to what had once been his room. There under the floorboards was his stash - much to his astonishment. After all this time, four hundred years, and it was still there. The staff, the first magic book Gaius had given him, Arthur's money and a number of knick knacks he'd collected over the years._

_He'd stood clutching the items to his chest, staring out the window. No longer the innocent boy who'd stared out that same window on his first night in Camelot with wonder. Now he stared out the same window with remembered pain and sadness._

"Merlin!"

Gwaine clicked his fingers in front of his face, startling him back to present day.

"You were dreaming there mate."

He blinked.

"Where'd you go?"

"Nowhere," he replied, his eyes met with Arthur's.

He had that reflective look in his eyes. Almost as if he knew where Merlin's thoughts had been, his former master was starting to figure him out.

"What happened to the sword?" Gwaine asked.

"I gave it away."

He watched the slow realization dawn on Arthur's face.

"You ... were the old man who gave Morgana the sword for my 21st birthday?"

"Yes."

"You were old?" Gwaine frowned.

"Merlin could make himself any age he wanted," Percival added.

Gwaine was looking at him as if he'd suddenly grown two heads. "Don't tell me," he hissed, "You were the old man in forest."

A wide smile crossed Merlin's face. "Yeah, you remember that."

Gwaine shook his head, "Son of a bitch."

"I had to find some way to get on that horse. Just as well you lot turned up when you did."

A bemused smile crossed Gwaine's face. "That was you and I didn't even know it."

"Why were you disguised as an old man that day? Where were you going?" Arthur asked.

"I had to take care of something, something Morgana had done."

Seeing all eyes on him, Merlin inwardly sighed. No doubt they would all want to know the story, but he was saved having to answer when the very person he'd just mentioned walked into the recreation room.

"You had to say her name," Arthur hissed in his ear.

"You had to ask why I was in the forest," he returned.

"That's because I'm still trying to figure you out."

"I thought you had by now."

Every head turned to look at her. Merlin watched their expressions with wry amusement. Gwaine was no doubt thinking; she killed me. Percival; she killed my best friend.

Lancelot, she brought me back from the dead, used me to break up Arthur and Gwen.

Arthur, she was my half sister and had plotted many times to kill me, a certain sadness in his eyes.

"Why are you all looking at me like that," she remarked with a confused wrinkle on her brow.

Her eyes rested on him, a warm smile crossing her face.

"Emmett," she breathed, "You are looking much better."

Before he had time to recollect his senses, Morgana, in front of them all, kissed him on the cheek. Merlin could feel four sets of eyes on him, eyes filled with astonishment, except Arthur. Arthur's were filled with an ironic amusement.

"Hey, brother," she continued, ruffling Arthur's hair, before putting her arms around him, giving him a quick hug.

"What I don't get a kiss?" Gwaine quipped, but there was a steely glint in his eyes.

Morgana glared at him. "Not unless I want to catch something," she remarked and promptly sat in a chair next to Merlin.

No one really knew what to say. It was kind of awkward. Gwaine started talking about how drunk he got when returning from Camp Bastion. He hadn't had a drink for three months. He had the worst hangover imaginable the next day. And on and on he went, prattling away.

"Well I must go," Lancelot eventually interrupted, "Things to do."

One by one they slinked off till it was just him and Arthur. They exchanged a look – _she doesn't remember. _

Morgana started bitching about Uther. "He's been in such a foul mood lately."

"What else is new," Arthur muttered.

He didn't want to think about, let alone, discuss his father. Arthur was grateful that his father was too busy to see him on a regular basis. It was bad enough seeing him every couple of days.

"He's been going on about Gwen, how dare she stand up to him. We had a big row about it."

That grabbed his attention.

"I don't think I helped," she sighed. "Poor Gwen, knowing father he'll find some way to make her pay."

Arthur's face paled significantly, his jaw clenched. "He better not."

Morgana glanced at him. "You have to convince him Arthur that you don't care for her, it's the only way."

He shook his head. "I'm not doing that again."

"I don't mean Gwen, just father. You have to tread carefully. After all he doesn't need to know the truth now, does he?"

No, he didn't. If he told his father it was over between him and Gwen, not that far removed from the truth at present, maybe he'd let it go?

"Actually he's probably looking for you as we speak."

Arthur groaned. The last person he wanted to see. As if on cue his father walked into the recreation room, took one look at him and strode in his direction.

He glanced at Merlin. Merlin gave him a sympathetic look.

"What are you still doing in that wheelchair?" his father remarked.

Arthur silently fumed. His father appeared impervious to the reality of his injuries.

"You should be up and about on crutches, working towards it, not sitting around chatting with ..." he glared in Merlin's direction, scowling. "People."

His eyes rested on the table, the cards spread out there.

"Playing cards."

His father was in fine form, as usual.

"Good to see you too father," he returned in a sarcastic voice.

Morgana sniggered. Uther shot her a glare. Merlin remained silent.

"I need to speak to Arthur alone."

Arthur just knew that it wouldn't be good. His heart sank. He had even been in a good mood, up until now.

"C'mon Emmett," Morgana began, helping him to his feet.

Then she suddenly, much to Arthur's astonishment, kissed Merlin full on the lips.

Poor Merlin, his face reddened. He didn't know where to look.

Morgana simmered at Uther. "Don't worry father, Emmett and I are of the same rank," she retorted, over her shoulder.

Arthur closed his eyes. Typical Morgana, to piss the old man off, slink out the door leaving him with the fallout.

His father, hands on hips, turned to look at him. The angry scowl was still in place. Now his father's eyes raked over him, from head to toe. Disappointment evident in the lines etched on his face.

"What is with you?" he snapped. "Why do you like associating with general riff raff?"

Arthur's jaw clenched. He glared up at his father.

"That general riff raff, as you put it, happened to save my life and he has a name."

Servants were like fodder to his father. They didn't matter, they had no voice. As far as his father was concerned, they were dispensable. Nothing had changed. He wished it had.

"You know Arthur I've come to the conclusion that you are nothing like me."

Arthur was really glad about that too. There once was a time, seeing the disappointment on his father's face, would have made him feel inadequate. Not anymore.

"As for that girl," his father continued, his face hardening, "She needs to be put in her place."

Arthur rankled at his father's words. He was about to threaten his father but Morgana's words came back to mind. Tread carefully.

"I'm not seeing her," he said, "I've not even really been in a relationship with her."

Least not this lifetime, so not as if he was exactly lying.

"She's not really my type I've decided."

Okay, that was a blatant lie. His father's eyes were glued to his face, assessing him. He had to pull this off.

"You have no feelings for this girl?" his father probed.

Arthur tried to keep his face as neutral as possible.

"I do have some feelings towards her but they are not strong enough for me to want to get in a relationship with her."

His father nodded. "Good."

Did that mean his father believed him? Arthur would do anything to protect her. If it meant lying, so be it.

"She still should be reprimanded for the way she spoke to me."

Arthur studied his father's hard profile and inwardly sighed.

"No one speaks to me like that and gets away with it."

No they didn't, Arthur's hands clenched into fists. He had to find some way to stop his father.

"Why? ... So she is a bit feisty but she has a kind heart."

His father's eyes narrowed. Arthur swallowed. Maybe he shouldn't have said that.

"It's not as if she works for you. You are not an officer, if you were then I guess you could charge her with insubordination ..."

"No I'm not but you are," his father cut him off.

Arthur didn't like were this conversation was headed. Why did he get the feeling he'd put his foot in it?

"You can charge her with insubordination."

His head shot up, horrified, "What?!"

"You heard me," his father returned coldly.

"B-But ..." he spluttered, "I wasn't the one she was insubordinate too, I can't charge her."

He ran stiff fingers through his hair in agitation. How could his father suggest such a thing?

He glared up at him. "I won't do it!"

His father stood there, face set in stone and Arthur's resentment towards him increased tenfold.

"You are too soft Arthur," his father scoffed. "Unfortunately you inherited that from your mother."

Unfortunately, he silently fumed.

"You need to toughen up. I thought the Army would have done that by now."

His jaw ached from clenching it so hard.

"Sometimes you have to make hard decisions if you are to succeed in business."

"I don't give a shit about the business!" he exploded, unable to hold keep his emotions in check.

If he could, he would have stormed out of the room before he totally lost it. He didn't want to give his father the satisfaction of having riled him.

He noticed, with dread, the cold formidable look on his father's face.

"Either you charge her with insubordination or I'll deal with her in my way, which as you know, will be a lot more unpleasant than anything you have to dish out."

Arthur's whole body stiffened. He gripped the sides of the wheelchair tightly till his knuckles turned white. This couldn't be happening. He felt so powerless.

"The choice is yours Arthur."

"Oh really, because it seems to me you've left me no choice here!"

His father gave him a grim but determined smile.

"This is just what you need. One day you'll thank me."

When hell freezes over, he felt like yelling.

"Now I need to see the matron and talk to her about getting you out of that wheelchair."

With that his father turned on his heel and walked away. Arthur stared after his father's retreating back, the sheer injustice of his actions making his insides churn. What the hell did he do? His father was a force to be reckoned with. He couldn't control him. His father had all of the control and a deep resentment, anger, even hate swirled through him. He hadn't even realized how rigid his body had gone till a sharp sudden pain shot through his left lower leg, making him wince with its intensity.

He might not be able to control his father, but there was one person who could ... Merlin. If anything Merlin would know what to do.

* * *

Merlin had a thing for ham and cheese croissants. Since his appetite had returned he often went to the cafeteria and brought one. He sat at a table with Morgana. She was watching him eat with a hint of amusement in her eyes.

"I'm hungry all the time," he offered in way of explanation.

She smiled. "You certainly could do with putting on a good ten pounds and more."

"Yeah and it'd keep Arthur off my back."

Her smile widened. "You always were too skinny."

That answer held way too much meaning. Merlin stopped chewing and quickly glanced at her. But judging by her expression she hadn't remembered.

Though the closer he looked at her, he began to notice the dark rings under her eyes. She also looked pale. And despite the easy way she made conversation and joked with him, he had noted the shadows in her eyes.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

Idly stirring her coffee, she replied, "I'm fine."

Picking up the cup, her hands shook as she attempted to take a sip. She wasn't fine and Merlin felt concerned. Abruptly, she lowered the cup to the table, her eyes resting on the cup. She took a deep shuddering breath.

"Morgana?"

She threw him a desperate look. "I keep have these recurring nightmares."

"Still?"

She dropped her face from his gaze.

"I do terrible things Emmett ... things I couldn't ever imagine doing ..." her voice broke off there, closing her eyes she slowly shook her head.

"It's me but it's not me. I-I ... feel nothing but anger all the time; it's relentless."

His throat tightened. He tried hard to remain focused.

"It's as if I don't have a heart anymore," she murmured, deep shadows crossed her face. "Who I was ... they no longer exist a-and I've become this thing ... this horrible terrible thing."

Merlin's heart constricted in his chest at the sound of her words, and he found himself wanting to comfort her in some way. The others might fear her, but he didn't. She was just a young confused woman now. Searching for answers, needing someone in her life to love her, undo all that hate from the previous time. She wasn't that woman - yet.

She tipped anguished eyes to his. "I couldn't do those things ... I can't be her?"

"You are not her," he got out in a hoarse voice. Yes, she once was but she didn't have to be again.

The look on her face was so wretched and strained. She pushed a long dark strand of her behind her ear.

"They are just dreams," he continued.

Tears collected in her eyes. Her lips trembled. "If they are just dreams," she began, her voice shaking, "Why are you sometimes in them Emmett?"

Merlin froze. He couldn't think for the blood rushing to his head. What did she just say? No, no ... oh shit. He slowly raised his eyes to hers. She can't remember! Not yet, it was too soon. He couldn't deal with this. And what would happen if she did?

"What do you mean Morgana?"

Her sigh was heavy as she adamantly shook her head. "I can't tell you," she whispered. "It's too awful."

His mouth went dry, oh great. Now he had to know.

"You can tell me, I might be able to help you."

She continued to shake her head. "No ... no, I can't."

"Please, Morgana."

"You won't like it."

"I can help."

"No."

"I won't think any less of you."

"Yes you will." Her voice was tight, it was apparent she was trying to hold back tears.

"Trust me," he persisted, reaching out a hand to touch hers.

She yanked her hand back and raised haunted eyes to his. "I want to kill you!"

He felt all colour drain from his face.

"I trusted you ... and y-you," she stammered, her face scrunched up in anguish, "betrayed me."

It felt like a rock had settled in the pit of his stomach. She stared at him, her breathing ragged.

"How can I want to kill you ... when I adore you?" Her voice broken, haunted, "I don't understand ... I don't understand anything anymore."

Merlin, shell shocked, couldn't think of anything to say.

"You see your face Emmett ... I knew you would think less of me," her voice broke off there and before he had a chance to respond, she hastily rose and stumbled out of the cafeteria.

"No ... wait," he tried to speak in a strangled voice, but she was gone.

He sat frozen to the chair, unable to move, unable to even think. _'I want to kill you'. _He screwed his eyes shut. It could only mean one thing. It was only a matter of time before Morgana remembered. The fallout of that ... it didn't bear thinking about. He was slowly beginning to come to one conclusion though; she shouldn't be alone when she remembered. That then meant he would have to help her remember. He didn't know if he had quite the mental strength for that. Dreading the thought of what possible reaction she could have when she did remember. Why couldn't it be easy? Why did it always have to be so hard? His allotment in life, he dryly mused.

"Merlin!" called a voice.

He recognized that voice in an instant, Arthur. He opened his eyes. Watched as Arthur wheeled his chair across the floor to his table, he looked flustered, pissed off about something.

"I saw Morgana run down the corridor as if the ghost's of hell were chasing her, what happened? Did you say something to her?"

Merlin sighed. "No, not really, but Arthur," he swallowed, "It's only a matter of time before she remembers."

It was Arthur's turn to go pale. "N-No ..." he murmured, "she can't."

"It's not a matter of she can't, but of a matter of when."

"Shit!"

"I need to be with her when she does."

Arthur's eyes widened in shock, "What are you insane Merlin?!"

"Don't you see, I abandoned her before, but now I have a chance to make it right?"

Arthur was scowling. "What if she tries to kill you?"

"I doubt it."

"You sound so sure."

He shook his head, wishing he was. "I'm not."

A host of conflicting emotions crossed Arthur's face before he uttered. "Then I'm going to be with you."

Merlin felt touched, Arthur, still so protective.

"I don't know if that would be a good idea."

Arthur threw up his hands in despair. "Why is my family so demented?!"

Merlin didn't know how to answer that.

"My father ... wants to make Gwen pay for the way she stood up to him, and now he is telling me I have to charge her with insubordination. If I don't then he'll take matters into his own hands and god knows what he would do to her ... and, Merlin, what do I do?"

He didn't know. He was still rattled by Morgana's confession.

"You have magic," Arthur continued.

"Last I checked," he quipped.

"Can't you like put a spell on him."

Merlin blinked in disbelief. "You're asking me to use magic?"

"You made me a simpleton ..."

"To get you to safety as it was the only way, yes, but that sort of magic and that sort of spell only lasts a short time, eventually your own will over rode it."

Arthur's jaw clenched. "To find myself wearing those ridiculous clothes, no doubt your twisted sense of humour Merlin?"

Merlin grinned. "No, that was all your own doing."

Arthur didn't look impressed.

"It was funny though."

"I didn't find it amusing."

Merlin rubbed his leg with remembered pain. "Yeah, you kept kicking me."

"I didn't kick you that hard," he scoffed.

Merlin frowned at him, "Hard enough."

"You're such a girl Merlin."

He scowled at those words. Arthur merely grinned.

"Least I don't hug trees," he quipped.

The grin left Arthur's face, his eyes narrowed. "You made me hug a tree?"

He smiled widely. "No, you did all that on your own too."

He tried not to laugh at Arthur's chagrined expression.

"Clearly I wasn't myself Merlin," he huffed.

"Actually I think I kind of preferred you as a simpleton."

Arthur was still frowning. He began to fold his arms.

"I could tell you what to do and you just did it, for a change. You had manners too," he smiled, "You were actually nice, though dumb as."

"Merlin," he began warningly.

"I know, shut up."

They exchanged a look. Merlin could tell Arthur was trying not to smile, but a brief sudden laugh erupted.

"Least you have a sense of humour this lifetime."

"Yeah well, I still have the same ass for a father."

Merlin's face grew serious. "You really want me to use magic on your father?"

Arthur took a deep breath, "Obviously not yet, because you can't, till you're better ... but I thought."

He shook his head dismally. "I don't know what I was thinking ... I'm kind of desperate."

A brief silence fell. Arthur's sat there, rigidly, jaw clenched. He wanted to help him, but this was something he couldn't do.

"I've never used magic as a means to totally take over someone's will Arthur, not to mention to use that kind of magic ... it's dark magic, the sort of magic the high priestesses used and if memory serves you correctly Arthur, the sort of dark magic Morgana used on Gwen."

Arthur glanced at him. "I'll have no say over my life whilst he's alive," he muttered, "but I don't want you to use dark magic Merlin ... not like Morgana," he sighed bleakly, "I saw what it did to her, couldn't bear the thought of that happening to you."

Merlin felt touched by his words.

"Don't suppose you could kill him though?"

Merlin spluttered in disbelief. "I'm not a hired assassin Arthur."

He could see Arthur wasn't being serious when he had asked that. A slow grin crossed his face.

"No," he began, eyes raking over him, "You're definitely not."

The smile left his face. "It still doesn't solve my dilemma," he muttered.

"You should talk to Gwen, tell her everything your father said and let her decide."

* * *

Obviously his father had riled up the nursing staff enough because when he returned to his room it was to find a nurse waiting for him with a set of crutches.

"We wanted to wait and see the results of your x-rays before getting you up on crutches, but your father was adamant that you should start today."

"I'm sorry about my father," he began, "Don't listen to him, if you want to wait then wait."

He could see himself spending the rest of his life apologizing for the actions of his father.

"I don't think it'll hurt to at least get you standing up with them, see how your leg feels."

He nodded.

"Once you are mobile enough on the crutches you can be discharged from hospital."

It also meant he would have to go home. He wouldn't be able to return to work for months. Stuck in the big mansion with just his father for company wasn't a thought he relished. He wouldn't be able to do anything much in the way of physical exertion. He could swear that his muscles were beginning to go soft already. But at least he would be out of that damn wheelchair. Gwaine had taken to calling him a number of related nicknames.

How he wished he would be returning to Camp Bastion with Gwaine, Lancelot and Percy. The only comforting thought being that Merlin wouldn't be returning either.

The nurse helped him get up on the crutches. His head spun slightly from standing up. He waited for it to abate. He could do this. He was going to do this.

"I can take over for you," a woman spoke and he recognized her voice in an instant.

Gwen. His heart thudded painfully in his chest.

His eyes shot up and rested on her face. She looked different. He couldn't put his finger on it. Then it hit him. She actually looked well rested. There was no confusion in her eyes, hurt or pain, just a calm acceptance.

"Hello Arthur," she spoke.

His heart thudded painfully in his chest at the sight of her, the uncertainty in her eyes. A hesitant smile tilted up the corners of her mouth.

_Guinevere ... his Guinevere, _Arthur pulled himself up with a start. No just Gwen, not his, not anymore.

"Gwen ..."

He drank in the sight of her. The way her jeans snugly hugged her hips, her shorter curls and the way they bounced around her face, enticing him to touch them.

Time stood still as his eyes met hers, a dozen conflicting emotions assailing him. There were so many things he wanted to say to her. Not knowing where to start. It had been one hell of a day. His emotions torn in so many directions, the encounter with his father still so fresh in his mind, and the consequences they would hold. But there was really only one thing he wanted to say; had to say.

"I'm sorry I told you to go away," he murmured, his voice cracking.

Her face softened. "I think I also need to say sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you."

"I know you didn't."

"I was being ... stupid."

"No, you weren't. You were just confused. It's hard with the memories coming back. I understand," he ran a hand up the back of his neck, "more than you realize."

The sweetest of smiles crossed her pretty face. He loved her smile, the way it lit up her face, transforming her whole countenance from the merely plain serving girl to someone beautiful.

"Arthur," she murmured, her voice catching in her throat.

It was like a barrier had been broken. She took the few steps that separated them. He could see the tenderness and longing in her eyes as she gazed up at him. Before he had a chance to say anything she leaned into him, and much to his surprise pressed her lips against his. Such was his own need and longing, he deepened the kiss, his tongue slipping intimately into her mouth. He wanted to kiss away that wall she'd erected around her heart. He wanted to remind her of just how good things had once been between them. They could have that again.

He gripped the crutches tightly in an attempt to not topple over.

Her arms weaved their way around his waist. He only wished he could hug her back. Her curls tickled his nose. Managing to raise a hand his fingers caught in her hair.

Her hands cupped his face, her thumbs caressing his cheeks like he was something precious.

"Let me sit down so I can touch you," he murmured, his voice husky.

He sat back on the bed, held out his arms to her. The crutches fell to the ground, unnoticed as his arms weaved their way around her, pulling her closer towards him.

He kissed her thoroughly. His hands roaming and touching all of her, it had been so long. He hadn't forgotten; neither had she.

When they finally pulled apart for air, he rested his forehead against hers, his thumb brushing over her lips.

"Does this mean I'm forgiven?" he murmured in a husky voice.

"I love you Arthur," she paused, "I'll always love you, no matter what lifetime it seems."

Her words comforted him, more than he could express. Cupping her face with his hands he kissed her again – a long, lingering, tender kiss. What he couldn't say with words was better expressed through his actions.

"I love you too."

* * *

He had to tell her about Lancelot and the bracelet. But this moment was so sweet, the way she held him, something he'd yearned for. They were sitting back on his bed. He had one arm around her, holding her close to his chest. Her face burrowed against his neck, her hand resting on his chest.

"Gwen," he began, as he absently twinned one of her curls around his finger.

"Don't say anything Arthur," she murmured.

He had to tell her. It wasn't something that could be put off. There were so many things he had to say, Lancelot being just one of them, his father the other.

"Lancelot came to see me the other day."

"Hmm." Her only reply, the way her hand now slipped beneath his shirt, caressing his bare skin, distracting him.

"He remembers."

Her hand stopped its sensual perusal of his chest. Slowly she raised her head and looked at him.

"It seems that ... Morgana ..." he stammered on the words, trying to think of the best way to tell her. "It wasn't the real Lancelot. Morgana brought him back from the dead, used him as a tool to separate us, and gave him an enchanted bracelet to put on your wrist."

She blinked, looking bewildered. He cupped her chin with his hand, brushed a thumb over bottom lip.

"That's why you suddenly had those feelings Gwen," he swallowed, dreading her reaction, "They weren't real."

His heart ached for all that had happened as a result, the accusations, recriminations; the shame she would have suffered. She appeared somewhat shocked, but then a look of relief filled her eyes.

"It's funny ..." she slowly began, "But when I pulled the bracelet off and threw it away, I felt nothing towards him anymore."

She sat up, staring off into the distance. He wanted to pull her back into his arms.

"I'm sorry," he murmured.

She turned her head and looked at him.

"It's not your fault."

"I jumped to conclusions. I was an idiot ... I should have thought more ..."

He got no further as she pressed a finger against his lips.

"None of that matters now Arthur," she sighed, "What was done was done."

He had expected her to be angry and hurt, but this calm acceptance; a welcoming relief.

"Least the truth is out," she continued.

Clasping her hand in his, he drew it to his mouth and brushed a kiss to her wrist.

There was still the matter of his father, but that could wait another day. He had already been through enough emotional turmoil. Now, he just wanted to enjoy her company. Everything was as it should be between them. The world had steadied. He had her back in his life and to hell with his father.

* * *

It was nearing dinner time when Gwen left Arthur. She hadn't felt so happy in a long time. It was as if a dark cloud had lifted from her heart and mind. The three days spent at her Aunt's farm was the break she needed, and time for her to sort out all of those conflicting emotions. Time enough for her to come to the one realization; she loved Arthur and nothing else mattered. That past time, was just that, in the past. They had the whole future before them.

Merlin raised an eyebrow when she waltzed into his room.

"Someone's happy," he remarked.

She planted a kiss on his cheek. "I am happy."

Merlin had a shrewd look on his face as she sat down on the chair beside his bed.

"I take it you and Arthur kissed and made up?"

Her face reddened slightly. She nodded. "It's good Merlin, I ... feel better now, not so confused."

He smiled widely. "You see. I told you it would be okay, that you all just needed time for the memories to sort themselves out."

"You always are right," she said warmly, taking hold of his hand in hers. "I'd be totally lost without you."

She noticed the brief shyness in his eyes. It astonished her, he'd only lived so many years and he was still often shy. It also touched her to know that he hadn't changed despite his losses.

"We all would be," she murmured.

"Even Arthur?" he asked lightly.

Especially Arthur, she quietly thought, "Arthur more so than anyone."

Hadn't Merlin realized that yet? He should do, he needed too.

* * *

Arthur had just finished eating his dinner when the orthopedic surgeon stepped into his room. It was unusual for him to visit this time of the evening. Judging by the look on his face he had bad news. What the hell now?

The results from his x-rays were not good. Something about there being no callus formation, non-union evident; he would lose his leg.

Arthur droned the voice out. Out of everything that had happened these last several weeks, he thought he was out of the woods. Infection, his biggest threat, hadn't happened. But he hadn't once thought about the bones not knitting back together or the implications of it.

He lay back on his bed, staring up at the ceiling in a numb state of mind, struggling to absorb the repercussions of losing his leg. The only thought entering his head; his father's reaction to it, and whose head would end up on the chopping block as a result?

Shit ... losing his leg ... shit. His eyes drifted shut as the enormity of it all took hold. When would it happen, a couple of days, or a week? He would have to go into theater, be put under a general anesthetic. Wake up to find he no longer had his left leg and ... shit; what next? Would else could go bloody wrong?

* * *

Arthur wasn't really asleep when Gwen returned to his room later that evening. How could he sleep knowing what he did? He was going to lose his leg and it was only a matter of when?

He felt her fingers lightly stroke his hair.

"Arthur," she whispered.

He opened his eyes and gazed up at her. He wanted to pull her into his arms, bury his face in her soft hair and just forget everything.

A worried frown crossed her forehead. "Are you alright?"

No, not really but he couldn't bring himself to tell her.

"Can you lie here with me for a while?"

She nodded and he made room for her as she slipped into his bed.

"I finally have you in my bed and I can't even capitalize on it," he grumbled.

A slow chuckle escaped her mouth. "There will be plenty of moments later on for that."

They both lay on their side, gazing into each other's eyes. He should tell her about his leg. He hadn't talked to anyone about it since hearing the bad news two hours ago.

"You look sad," she spoke, breaking the silence, "Worried."

She knew him too well. He drew a deep breath, "I-It's my leg ..."

"I know Arthur."

Of course she did.

"I was in the nurse's station earlier and I overheard them discussing it."

Great, that meant he didn't have to say anything more, and the last thing he wanted was to see pity in her eyes.

"Probably better off without it anyway," he muttered, "Least I won't have to worry about knocking that stupid contraption thing on it, because that thing is a major pain in the ass."

Gwen snuggled into him. There was no pity in her eyes, just compassion.

"It's all scarred and horrible looking as it is."

She lightly caressed his face. He swallowed the sudden lump that had formed in his throat.

"Gwen ..." he began hesitantly, as doubts took hold, "I-It won't bother you if I lose ... I mean, you won't be like ... repulsed?"

Disbelief flashed in her eyes. "Arthur," she gasped, "Of course not."

Of course she wouldn't, he was being stupid. He pulled her closer towards himself, planting a soft kiss to her brow.

"Don't tell Merlin," he murmured, "I don't want to worry him. You know what he's like."

"He's going to find out one way or another," Gwen sighed.

* * *

Of course Merlin would find out. But how did he? Who had told him? It was just after ten in the morning when he came limping into his room, looking worried and frazzled.

"You weren't going to tell me?" he accused.

Arthur sighed. "Sit down Merlin before you fall down."

Merlin promptly sat in the chair by his bed, still looking put out.

"And no, I wasn't going to tell you."

"Why?" he frowned.

"You know why."

Merlin glanced down at his hands that rested on his knees. Arthur could tell the young man was formulating a response in his head, a reason as to why he should use magic.

He looked up at him. "It's just a little spell Arthur," he began, and there it was, "just to start the callus formation."

Arthur sat there arms folded. This was exactly why he didn't want Merlin to find out. He glanced at Gwen. She was hovering at the end of his bed looking anxious.

"I swear I didn't tell him."

"It was Lucy," Merlin interjected. "She happened to mention it over breakfast."

Naturally, Arthur dryly mused, one of the nurses, because Merlin was so friendly with them all. So help him god but he wouldn't let Merlin use his magic no matter how much he tried to persuade him otherwise.

"You told me you sucked at healing spells in the early days so I take it Merlin they are not easy to perform, and far from being just a little spell."

Arthur now knew enough about magic and felt a smug satisfaction. He was no longer so ignorant. Plus, unbeknown to Merlin, Gaius had also told him a thing or too.

"It's not just a flick of the wrist is it?" he continued.

Merlin didn't look happy. Arthur had enough confirmation to see that he was right. Performing the sort of magic needed to fix his leg would require strong magic. Magic that would take its toll on Merlin.

"You are going to lose your leg Arthur if you don't let me help."

"No Merlin."

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh, so you want to lose the leg?"

Arthur didn't really want to lose his leg. Who would, but neither did he want to lose Merlin. Merlin was infinitely more precious to him.

Merlin turned to Gwen, his frustration evident. "Can't you talk some sense into him Gwen?"

She bit down on her lip. "I can't get involved in this Merlin," she replied, quickly turning away and disappearing into the bathroom.

Merlin returned his attention to him.

"I don't need anyone's permission," he murmured, a determined look on his face. "I've lived 1,400 years, what other purpose do I serve if I can't use my magic?"

Before Arthur could say anything more, Merlin's eyes glowed gold. He uttered words that Arthur had never heard before. Words that made the hairs stand up on the back of neck and arms. Sudden warmth spread through his lower leg. His eyes widened in shock and disbelief. What the hell was he doing? He had told him no! Did he never listen!

"Merlin ..." he began, panic taking hold, "Stop it ... Merlin!"

The golden glow in his eyes faded to blue, and he watched horrified as Merlin's eyes rolled back in his head. He slumped forward in his seat and Arthur grabbed him before he fell to the ground.

He tried to hold onto him, his heart beating erratically in his chest.

"Guinevere!" he yelled in a stricken voice.

She came running into the room. Her eyes widened and her face paled at the sight of Merlin slumped in his grasp.

"What happened?" she gasped, grabbing Merlin from under his arms and pulling him on to her lap, tenderly stroking his hair.

"H-He ... he used some healing spell on my leg."

She shot him an accusing look.

"I told him not to!" He yanked a hand through his hair. "He didn't listen ... he never listens!"

"Shit Arthur ... this isn't good."

His heart lurched to a halt. What the hell did she mean?

Percival happened to appear in the doorway, his expression clouding with sudden worry as he saw Merlin lying unconscious in Gwen's arms.

"Help me Percival, w-we have to get him back to his room," Gwen stuttered, fresh tears falling down her cheeks, making Arthur feel even more wretched than he already did.

"I'll call for the Doctor," she continued, hastily wiping her eyes.

Percival picked up Merlin in his arms as if he were light as a feather. He was deathly pale.

"Careful," he admonished.

"I have him Arthur," he grunted, "I'll let nothing happen to him. You are not the only person he means something to."

With that Arthur shut his mouth and watched in despair as Percival carried Merlin's limp body out of his room. He felt as useless and as powerless as he had once done, all those years ago when Merlin had leapt out in front of the Dorocha to save his life. The agony of that moment still so vivid in his memory - Percival, much like now, had carried Merlin's limp paralyzed body.

Even half dead Merlin had wanted to go with him.

'_Take me with you please.'_

'_You would die, Merlin.'_

'_But you don't understand. Please, Arthur.'_

'_Do you ever do as you're told?'_

'_I have to come with you.'_

'_Merlin ...'_

Arthur now knew why Merlin was so desperate to go with him; to save his miserable ass, once again. He felt like throwing something, anything to release the pent up emotions. He felt like raging at the whole world - _'you give and you take ... damn you ... damn you all!'_

Within the space of just half an hour, if that, his whole world had come crashing down around his shoulders.

He better be alright ... if anything happened to him; if Merlin died. He would never forgive himself.

"I should have ... I should have tried harder to stop him," he muttered hoarsely.

A wave of sickness washed over him. He buried his face in his hands. Not even bothering to stop the tears that threatened. What was the point? A world without Merlin in it – wasn't a world he could face or want. Merlin was always there for him. He'd only be half a person without him. That's why Merlin would be alright, why he had to be – life would cease to function without him.

.

.

.

* * *

.

**A/N: Sorry to end it on a cliff hanger! Not normally like me. You can send the pitch-forks if it makes you feel better :) **** This chapter took me forever to write. I like it, then I don't like certain scenes and so then I go back and re-write them, driving myself crazy in the process! Now I don't know what I think of it anymore?**

**Please review. I anxiously wait to see what people think, seeing as I can't think! Merlin being Merlin, he was always going to attempt to help heal Arthur at some stage. I actually wrote the last scene ages ago. It's only taken me several chapters to get there!**


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N: Thanks again for all the great reviews to date! I never imagined, when I first started writing this story, that it would be as popular as it has become. You can't imagine how happy that makes me! **

**I have, unfortunately, struggled with some writer's block, much to my frustration. Which is quite normal when you get to this stage of a story. I always struggle with the last few chapters. I find the words don't flow as much as I would like and it always takes me so much longer to write. I feel some scenes could have been better than they turned out.**

**That being said. Enjoy!**

* * *

**_Chapter 24._**

* * *

Arthur demanded to see Merlin. But it didn't matter how many times he raged no one was to see Merlin and that included him. Not like he was king anymore. He didn't have rights, he didn't have a say. For the first time he felt the frustration. Not that he wanted to be king. He didn't have that responsibility hanging over his head. He was glad about that. If, when, he and Gwen managed to have a life together, they could be any normal couple out there. Have children, raise a family and kick a footy with the kids. All the things he wished his father had done with him but hadn't. He wouldn't be like his father. He and Gwen could just be like any regular family out there. So why did he have problems visualizing it? As if these things would be denied him both life times?

He needed Merlin here. Merlin was the only one to reassure him. He had a way of doing away with the many doubts that would fill his head. Dammit Merlin, he muttered inwardly, running a hand through his hair that stood up on end by now.

Moments like these he wished he could pace, like Gwaine was currently doing in his room. His head was buzzing with a thousand tortured thoughts and wasted moments. Just when he thought he was done with all of that; it now came tumbling back.

Gwaine's angry accusations hadn't helped. "How could you let him use magic?!" he had exclaimed when he'd first heard.

"You try telling Merlin what to do Gwaine!" he'd snapped back. "When his mind is made up about something there is no stopping him."

He was well aware of that. Controlling Merlin – easier said than done.

'_Run, Merlin! Go!'_

_Of course Merlin wasn't running._

'_What are you ...?! Do as I say!'_

Not that he would have it any other way. Merlin also just couldn't grasp the concept of leaving him alone, _'How many times do I have to get it into your thick skull? I am supposed to be doing this alone!'_

Wherever he went, Merlin went with him. Like he was, in many ways, his own personal body guard. Not much more than a boy, Merlin, always protecting him. Consistent as the sun setting and rising and he had just taken it all for granted.

Gwaine was mumbling again. Arthur wished he wasn't here, he was just making him feel more anxious and sick in the stomach than he already did.

"Would you sit down Gwaine," he finally snapped.

Gwaine scowled at him before finally flopping down on the chair by his bed, looking dejected.

"You know if it wasn't for Merlin I never would have become a knight," he murmured at length. "I hated nobility."

He still did, Arthur dryly mused.

"He was my friend when nobody else was, like he believed in me," Gwaine continued.

The sick feeling in his stomach worsened. Arthur wished he would shut up. He wasn't helping.

"You know we really should have figured out Merlin had magic. It's not like it wasn't half obvious," Gwaine murmured, looking lost in thought. "You reckon he caused that fire to happen when we were captured by Jarl and had to fight for our lives?"

Gwaine glanced at him. "I mean that fire just erupted out of nowhere and saved us all. We would have been dead men otherwise."

Of course it would have been Merlin. The amount of times they had escaped danger and death because of him. And none of them even aware of it.

"And he survived the Dorocha when no one else had," Gwaine's voice trailed off, "Yet not one of us questioned it."

He'd just been grateful Merlin was alive. But he should have thought about it, Gaius had told him after all that no mortal could survive the Dorocha's touch. Except Merlin, because Merlin wasn't mortal as it turned out.

"Then there was the little man on the bridge."

'_Before I let you pass, I'll give you a little advice, as courage there are two more things you'll need to complete your quest: strength and magic.'_

'_I don't condone the use of magic.'_

'_You'd be wise not to dismiss is so freely.'_

Of course, Merlin was magic. Why hadn't that clicked with him then? Why had he been ignorant as to who and what Merlin really was? Because Merlin was the thing he feared the most – a sorcerer. The thought of his best friend being something he'd been taught all his life to despise was a thought he couldn't comprehend. Yet the evidence had always been there if he had looked hard enough.

The day Merlin came stumbling into the court room declaring he was the sorcerer to save Gwen he had passed off as nothing more than the boy having a crush for her.

'_Merlin is a wonder, but the wonder is that he's such an idiot. There's no way he is a sorcerer.' _

Yet, ironically, he had been telling the truth.

The witch-finder declaring Merlin as the sorcerer and he had laughed, '_Merlin? You can't be serious.'_

Even the day of the Caalman battle he was still in denial.

'_I defeated the Saxons. The dragon. And yet ... And yet I knew it was Mordred that I must stop.'_

_He patted Merlin on the shoulder, bemused._

'_The person who defeated them was the sorcerer.'_

'_It was me.'_

_Merlin gripped him by the wrist as his eyes filled with tears. The young man looked utterly wretched. It felt like a rock had settled in the pit of this stomach. What the hell was he saying?_

'_Don't be ridiculous Merlin ... this is stupid, why would you say that?'_

'_I'm a ...' Merlin's voice broke off there as tears got the better of him. He pointed to himself, 'I'm a sorcerer. I have magic. And I use it for you, Arthur. Only for you.'_

'_Merlin, you are not a sorcerer. I would know!'_

Arthur shut his eyes and slowly shook his head. Ignorance, fear, all of it ... it had no place. It created so much more pain than was ever necessary.

"Everyone else got the glory ... when it had always been Merlin," Gwaine continued to mutter. "I don't know how he did it?"

'_All these years, Merlin ... You never once sought any credit.'_

'_It's not why I do it.'_

It wasn't Gaius who had saved his life from the Questing Beast, as he had been led to believe. It had been Merlin; it had always been Merlin.

Merlin standing in his chambers, a strange look on his face, a look Arthur couldn't decipher.

'_I need to talk to you.'_

'_You still haven't got it yet, have you? I decide when we need to talk.'_

'_Not today.'_

'_I sometimes wonder if you know who I am.'_

'_Oh. I know who you are.'_

'_Good.'_

'_You're a prat, and a royal one.'_

_He chuckled to himself that would be right. 'Are you ever going to change Merlin?'_

_The young man shook his head. 'No, you'd get bored. But promise me this, if you get another servant, don't get a bootlicker.'_

_Why was Merlin saying that? 'Is this you trying to leave your job ...?'_

'_No, I'm happy to be your servant. Till the day I die.'_

_Merlin confused him immensely at times._

'_Sometimes I think I know you, Merlin. Other times ...'_

_He totally confounded him, like now. Arthur could have sworn he was trying to say goodbye._

'_Well, I know you. And you're a great warrior. One day, you'll be a great King.'_

_He could have sworn there were tears in Merlin's eyes. He was touched by those words, not expecting it._

'_That's very kind of you.'_

'_But you must learn to listen as well as you fight.'_

'_Any other pointers?'_

'_No. That's it. Just ... don't be a prat.'_

Merlin, like a shadow, always there, shaping him to become the King he was meant to be. Now he knew what Merlin meant when he had said, '_that's not why I do it.'_ He wished he had known. But it could have changed everything, and not in a good way. Merlin may have kept quiet out of fear in the early years, but later out of fear of what he would lose.

Merlin's loyalty had been unwavering. He had also put up with plenty of shit Arthur had meted out to him; much to his shame now. If only ... if only it had been different, if only he hadn't died. He could have been the one re-instating magic, facing the court members, fighting against the prejudices. It should have been him ... it just should have been. It wasn't right. It wasn't fair, not after everything they had been through together.

"Screw this," he muttered, "I'm going to see him."

It had been hours. He hadn't seen Gwen at all. Percival had given them the news that Merlin was still unconscious before disappearing, but not before Arthur noticed the distraught look on his face.

"But you can't," Gwaine began.

Arthur swung his legs over the bed. He wasn't taking no for an answer.

"Pass me the crutches Gwaine."

Gwaine muttered something incomprehensible under his breath, reached for the crutches and handed them to him.

"They won't let you in," he stated.

"Then I'll find a way."

A glimmer of a smile hovered on Gwaine's face. "If anyone can reach Merlin it would be you."

Gwaine rested a hand on his shoulder. Arthur managed a brief pained smile.

"You should go find Percival. I don't think he should be alone right now."

"Sure, he probably needs a drink. I need a drink."

Gwaine went to leave, stopping in the doorway. He turned slowly and looked at him.

"It's funny but for a moment you sounded like ..." he paused, a warm look on nostalgia in his eyes, "Like the King Arthur I used to know."

* * *

Gwaine had no sooner left when Gwen appeared. She was a damn sight for sore eyes.

"Please tell me Gwen," he began in a wooden voice, "It'll be alright?"

She took a deep breath and took the few steps that separated them.

"He's okay Arthur," she began, taking hold of his hand in hers, "He's just set himself back a bit but he'll be fine."

He didn't believe her. He could tell by her face that all was not fine.

"Has he regained consciousness?"

She slowly and sadly shook her head. He swore out loud. Language colourful to make Gwen look at him shocked.

"It's the 21st century Gwen, you're in the Army I'm sure you've heard it all before."

The bizarreness of it all, here they were living in the present, the world they once knew lost in the past. He remembered it, she remembered it, just that they were living now not then.

"Not out of your mouth."

"I'm sorry, I'm just a bit ... pissed off," he muttered. "I'm pissed off that Merlin never listens and now he's ..." his voice broke off there as emotion got the better of him.

He swallowed the lump in his throat.

"He will be okay," she reassured, brushing his hair back from his forehead in a comforting gesture.

Arthur pulled her into his arms and held onto her tightly. Thank god she was now restored to him. He'd be lost without her as much as he'd also be lost without Merlin. These two people meant everything to him. Just as they had done in that previous life, funny how that went or as Merlin would say, _'it's fate Arthur'._

He pulled back and rested his hands on her shoulders. "You should be with Merlin."

She nodded, a single tear tracking its way down her cheek. He gently brushed it away with his thumb.

* * *

Morgana was dozing on her bed. She hadn't meant to drift off to sleep, but as her nights were not restful the tiredness had caught up with her. One moment she was watching Anne of Green Gables, strangely drawn to the girls whimsical reciting about the Lady of Shalott, as she walked dreamlike alongside a stream.

Morgana's eyes grew heavy, the words floated through her subconscious. _There she weaves by night and day, a magic web with colours gay, she had heard a whisper say, a curse is on her if she stay - to look down to Camelot. _

Camelot ... Camelot ... it was, should be hers. Voices whispered through her embittered heart.

_You can trust me Morgana. You know you can. _

His face flashed before her eyes. She wanted to believe him, desperately, cling to him like a life line.

'_Merlin', she murmured._

_Merlin wasn't to be trusted. Merlin had tried to poison her. He was loyal only to Arthur. The only person she could trust and believe in now was her half sister. But Merlin had even taken that away from her, condemning her to a slow and painful death._

_He would pay for what he had done. Morgana still felt the pain as she drove the knife into her sister's heart. The force of what happened next sent her reeling backwards through the air._

_A cloaked woman, pale, dead looking, stood before her._

'_Tearing the veil between the worlds has created a new world, and you will not walk through it alone. The one they call Emrys will walk in your shadow. He is your destiny, and he is your doom. _

_Emrys, the voice whispered._

Morgana tossed fitfully in her sleep, wanting to escape the dream but unable to.

_He stood before her, Merlin. _

'_I blame myself for what you've become ... but this has to end.'_

'_I am a High Priestess. No mortal blade can kill me.'_

_He thrust the sword up under her abdomen into her heart. _

'_This is no mortal blade. Like yours, it was forged in a dragon's breath.'_

_Emrys was Merlin. He held her as she felt her life force ebb away, before lowering her to the ground and withdrawing the sword._

'_Goodbye, Morgana.'_

_She gasped her last breath. The sadness in his eyes the last thing she would ever see._

_Merlin was her doom. _

_She started screaming, soundless, her voice empty and silent as the still air around her, but the painful claw clutching her heart was real and terrifyingly vivid. _

Someone was shaking her. She tried to push them away, trapped in a nightmarish world she couldn't escape.

"Wake up ... Morgana!"

The voice sounded worried, urgent.

Yes – wake up; she had to wake up. It was just a dream.

Her eyes sprung open and she looked up into Uther's face. She recoiled in horror at the sight of him.

"S-Stay away from me," she gasped.

He held up a hand as if she was a terrified child.

"You were just dreaming Morgana."

She licked her dry cracked lips. Icy fear clutched her heart as the realization dawned. "I-It's more than a dream."

A cold chill crept through her.

"Are you alright Morgana?" Uther urgently asked, looking concerned.

She glanced at him. Oh how she had hated him; still did.

"I-I'm ... fine."

Raising a trembling hand she pushed her hair back from her face. Uther was carefully watching her. She shuddered. There was only one person who could help her, one person who had the answers; Merlin.

* * *

The following day rolled by. Arthur had had the worst night sleep. Felt like death warmed up that morning. Every time he'd drift off to sleep he would dream about Merlin. Merlin was hidden from him, he was lost, trapped. He had to find him, had to save him. His desperation growing as his attempts to save the young man were fruitless. Merlin was going to die and there was nothing he could do about it.

When he woke from the dream it felt as if a ton of bricks rested on his chest.

Even the sight of Gwen that morning brought little cheer. Even less when he noticed her sad, pale face and the news; Merlin still hadn't come around.

It wasn't the news he wanted to hear. It left him feeling dazed and at odds with himself. It didn't help when everyone he knew chose to visit him that day. Gwaine paced the confines of his room. Lancelot offering reassurances that Merlin would be fine, Merlin always pulled through. Percival would sit in quiet contemplation. He was glad when they all left. Now maybe he could devise a way to see Merlin for himself.

Then Gaius turned up. Gaius, wanting to know what had happened to Merlin. Arthur told him.

"That foolish boy," Gaius muttered, making Arthur feel worse than he already did.

Then Gaius insisted he have further x-rays to see if the magic was working.

"You can give him some good news when he comes around," Gaius told him. "Least if his magic worked then we would know it wasn't in vain."

Arthur already knew that the magic was working. He could feel it, the warmth and tingling in his lower leg. It was a pleasant sensation. As if something good was happening there.

By mid-afternoon he was feeling emotionally and physically exhausted. He sat back on the bed, staring at nothing in particular. Gwen sat in the chair beside his bed.

"I don't want to go back to Camp Bastion," she spoke.

He turned his head and looked at her. Neither did he want her to go.

"I would gladly trade places with you."

She managed a brief smile. "Before you know it you will be back out there again."

Right now he couldn't envision it.

"Next time, make sure you don't get blown up again," she added. "I don't think my heart could take that again."

He smiled. "I'll try."

But the smile didn't last as the knowledge of their days together were coming to an end.

"When do you leave?" he asked her.

"Five days."

Arthur's heart sunk, five bloody days. Is that all.

"I won't see you for three months," he muttered.

Her face paled slightly. There was something else bothering her.

"Arthur ..." she began just as the door opened.

He looked up to see his father come striding into the room. Shit. His father would choose to visit him when Gwen happened to be there. Thank god they were not hugging or touching each other.

His father glared so fiercely at Gwen that Arthur began dreading what the outcome would be. Why couldn't his father be damn well reasonable? Why did he have to be what he was? And what the hell did he do about him?

"What is she doing here?" his father growled.

He watched Gwen stiffen.

"I asked her here because ... "

"To charge her with insubordination," his father interrupted before his could say anything more.

Gwen's eyes widened and met with his. Oh this was just terrific! He hadn't told her about that yet, what with everything that had happened to Merlin.

His father was shrewd in his observations. "I see you haven't gotten around to it, I guess you've both been sitting there having a cosy chat."

Hardly cosy, they were talking about Merlin. Bloody Merlin lying unconscious in his hospital bed all because of him and it left him still feeling so raw. He wasn't up to dealing with his father right now.

"Does that mean you were lying the other day when you told me your feelings for this girl were not strong enough to want to get in a relationship with her?"

Arthur went stock still. He didn't even dare to glance in Gwen's direction, feeling as if he'd been caught between a rock and a hard place. Shit. He had to do something, something his father wasn't going to like. Reaching for his crutches he stood up and faced him. He gritted his teeth.

"Father," he began, "I would like you to leave us alone."

He braced himself for his father's reaction. His father's eyes narrowed.

"You lied to me?" he hissed.

Arthur swallowed.

"Tell me, do you or do you not have feelings for that girl?" He gestured in Gwen's direction.

"It has nothing to do with you," he retorted, feeling his own temper rise. "It's none of your business who I choose to go out with."

They glared at each other.

"You can choose who you go out with Arthur," his father began, and he knew that look on his face all too well, "but she will pay one way or another."

His emotions were already in a raw enough state. Right now he wasn't in control of them. All the anger that coursed through him directed purely at his father

"You can't do that!"

But his father stood there, calm and in control. "I can and I will."

"I will never respect you," he hissed, waving a finger at him. "You are not my father!"

His father didn't even flinch at those words. Arthur seldom went into battle with his father because he knew it was often futile; the outcome generally ending up bad for him.

"Then I will disown you." His father said in a steely voice.

"Do it, see if I care."

Arthur stared directly at his father. He wasn't backing down this time.

"You won't get a cent from me," his father continued.

"I don't want anything from you."

His father's hands came to rest of his hips. Arthur was expecting a barrage of angry words. What he wasn't expecting was the quiet, eerily calm manner of his father, his expression unreadable.

"You just don't get it do you Arthur," he began in a low voice, "I just won't make her pay, I'll also make you pay."

His father wouldn't ... would he? Judging by the cold look on his face it was possible. His father was even more ruthless this lifetime, in many ways, than he had been before. Or he was bluffing.

"What would you do to me?"

His father raised an eyebrow. "End your career in the Army, might not hurt you to even spend a couple of years cooling off in a military prison, reputation left in shatters that would make you unemployable. Guess then you would have no option but to work for me."

Arthur listened horrified. Would his father really do that him? He couldn't be serious?

"You would do that to your own son?" he murmured, voice hoarse. "Where's the love father?"

"Whether you can see it or not I am doing this for you own good Arthur."

It was obvious to him now. His father was clearly disillusioned. With a sinking heart he also knew his father never had had his best interests at heart. It was still possible his father was bluffing, but if he was Arthur couldn't tell. Either way he was going to call him on it.

"Do it then," he hissed, glaring at him.

His father's jaw flexed. His eyes smouldered. "Don't push it Arthur."

He heard the steely threat in his words.

"No stop! Please!" Gwen exclaimed, jumping to her feet and standing between them.

What was she doing? His heart started to thud. Father would tear strips off her. She turned to face Uther and her next words shocked him into silence.

"I will not see your son, you have my word."

It felt as if a black hole had opened up in the pit of his gut.

"No!" He would have reached for her if he could. "Don't ... Gwen."

She stared at him through watery eyes. "I will not see you go to jail."

Arthur ran stiff fingers through his hair. "He won't do it!"

"You wouldn't be the first person I've done it to Arthur," his father scoffed at his words.

Arthur clenched his jaw. "He's just bluffing Gwen."

"Listen to the girl Arthur. She speaks sense."

Arthur glared at him.

"You forget son, I own the most powerful industry in all of Great Britain."

He exchanged a pained tortuous look with Gwen, silently pleading her not to do it.

His father turned to face Gwen. "I have your word?"

She lowered her eyes from his and nodded. "Yes, you do."

Arthur could see the smug look on his father face. He hated him more than ever.

"I will keep you to your word," he said. "If you go back on it you will rue the day you ever did."

With that his father turned on his heel and left the room.

They stood in shocked silence.

This whole day had just gone from bad to even worse. He slowly sunk back onto the bed. Still in a state of disbelief, he felt Gwen sit next to him.

"Say something Arthur?" She sounded anxious and distressed.

He slowly shook his head. "You shouldn't have given him your word Gwen," he muttered, "He wouldn't have gone through with it."

"Wouldn't he? You don't know that Arthur."

He raised his face to hers.

"I have no doubt he'd make us pay, but prison ..." he let out a breath, "He wouldn't go that far."

Gwen didn't look convinced. "I wouldn't be so sure."

Maybe she was right and he was just in denial?

"I think he would do anything to control you Arthur, and by whatever means."

He took a deep pained breath. Possibly Gwen was right. Not just possibly but probably.

"I think he's already beginning to make me pay," she continued in a shaky voice.

He frowned and glanced at her.

"I received a letter in the mail this morning."

He watched as she retrieved the letter from her pocket and handed it to him. The words were all burred to him.

"I can't read it without my glasses."

She fetched his glasses from the bedside table and gave them to him. He put them on and began to read the letter. It took a moment for it to sink in. Her tour of duty was being extended by a further six months on top of the three months she still had left.

"B-But that's not possible," he spluttered, looking at her in disbelief. "That can't happen?!"

She bit down on her lip. "Technically speaking, no it can't."

His father was a close associate to the General Sarum, Chief of the General Staff. It wouldn't have been hard for him to have a word in his ear.

This was his father's doing. The unfairness of it rankled him. This just wasn't about what his father would do to him, but also what his father would and was doing to Gwen.

"Don't you see Arthur, this is only the beginning," she sighed, "It's a warning."

A mixture of emotion swirled through him. He felt so useless and powerless.

"I'm sorry."

And he was, sorry that she had to love a man who had a deranged masochist for a father.

She gently took his hands in hers.

"What do we do?" he asked her.

There was no way he was losing her again. He would face whatever his father flung at him, but what of Gwen. He couldn't bear to see her hurt along the way.

"For now we must let him think he has the upper hand."

"I've got a better idea. I'll get Merlin to sort him out."

Gwen smiled slightly and shook her head. "And risk having your father remember, think what he would do to Merlin if he did?"

She had a point and Merlin had already told him it required dark magic to control another, or in his father's case, abuse of power to control him.

"I don't plan on staying in the Army when my time is up," Gwen continued. "I only have just three years to go. We will have to wait."

Wait, again and three years! He was about to protest when she held a finger to his mouth. "When I leave the Army he won't be able to hold that threat over me anymore."

Clasping her hand in his, he pressed his lips to the inside of her wrist.

"I'm not waiting three years. I will find a way to deal with my father."

He reached out and caught a few strands of her hair in his fingers, lightly rubbing them. He traced the outline of her mouth with his fingers. Then he replaced his fingers with his lips.

"I'm not letting you go again," he murmured and pulled her into his arms.

Holding her tightly, burying his face in her hair.

"We will find a way."

* * *

Morgana stood at the foot of Merlin's bed, a myriad of painful conflicting thoughts and memories assailing her. Merlin was Emrys. Merlin was her doom. Merlin had killed her. Morgana brought her hands up to her face. It's not true. It can't be real. They were just dreams.

She took slow measured steps till she was beside his bed. He lay there, so pale and still, lifeless almost. Why hadn't he woken up? Why did he look like he was about to die? When she saw him two days ago, he was well, getting better.

With trembling hands she lightly stroked his pale cheek.

"Tell me Merlin," she murmured in a hoarse voice. "Please wake up and tell me none of it happened?"

But he lay there, unmoving. Why wasn't he answering her? Why wouldn't he wake up? Panic took hold.

"Merlin!"

She gently shook him.

"Wake up ... Merlin. I need you." Her voice laced with desperation. "Please wake up!"

Still nothing; what had happened to him? Tears filled her eyes.

"Tell me it never happened." Her voice not more than a whisper. "I need to know."

Leaning over him she kissed him on the mouth, her own tears splashing on to his cheeks.

"Please wake up Merlin," she begged.

His eyes slowly opened. Morgana sighed, tight and small. It hurt her chest.

"What happened to you?"

"I-I had a ... relapse." His voice was strained, as if it took all of his effort to talk.

His face was so deathly pale. The woman in her dreams would have enjoyed that, but she wasn't her. She didn't want to be her.

"M-My dreams ... they really happened?" Her voice shook badly.

A deep sadness stole of his face. "Yes."

Double horror hit her. Her stomach heaved. She blinked rapidly. "Y-You ... killed me." Her voice not more than a whimper.

"Everyone lost Morgana." His voice was raspy, and unbelievably sad. "Everyone died ... Arthur, same day as you."

He swallowed, even that seemed painful for him. It hurt to see him this way. She was so confused.

"Except me, I was cursed to live an immortal life and watch people I care about die over and over again."

Morgana felt her stomach roil at his words and the raw pain in his eyes.

"You want to kill me Morgana, I-I don't blame you."

She brought a trembling hand up to her mouth. His words distressing her, did she really want to kill him? But there had been a time when she looked up to him as some kind of saviour, which had made his attempt at poisoning her so much worse – the betrayal!

"There were times I wished I could die ... so many times I wished I had done things differently."

She wrapped her arms in front of her, shivering.

"You let the hate into your heart just like Uther did. It blinded you, controlled you till everything that was good was lost."

Something clutched her insides. Her vision blurred with tears. His sad pale face haunting her in a way that stirred up repressed memories. Earlier memories, how sweet he had been.

"It doesn't have to be that way again."

Merlin screwed his eyes shut, his breathing becoming laboured. He was in pain, suffering like her.

"Just remember who you were before ... that person ... that good person with the kindest of hearts."

She was drawn by his words, by the force of conviction behind them. She watched him as well, mesmerized and tormented. His eyes opened and met hers.

"T-That's who y-you ... really are Morgana."

She miserably shook her head. He reached for her hand. His fingers were warm, hers so cold.

"Remember ... Morgana ... the druid camp."

He squeezed her fingers and sudden faint warmth began to fill her heart at the thought.

"Remember her ..." A weariness had crept into his voice. His eyes drifted shut.

_The druid leader, Aglain sat with her._

'_You're safe here. You shouldn't be scared of Uther. You should pity him.'_

'_Pity? Why?'_

'_Because he's a broken man, consumed by fear. His hatred of magic has driven goodness from his heart.'_

Somewhere along the way she had forgotten Aglain's words. And she had become just like Uther. Broken, consumed by anger till it drove all goodness from her own heart.

And Merlin was the only person who had helped her, when her fear had been at its greatest.

'_I'm sorry. I'm never going back. These are my people.' She had told him. 'They're like me. I don't feel so alone here. Do you understand?'_

'_Better than anyone.'_

Of course he did, because he had magic and she hadn't even known.

She remembered, running through the words with him, Aglain and Mordred. How safe she had felt with Merlin by her side.

'_We've got to keep moving.'_

'_My leg, it's too painful.'_

'_I'll try to create a diversion.'_

'_No, Merlin, you can't!'_

'_You carry on! It's my fault they're here! Go! Go!'_

'_I'll never forget this.'_

She lightly caressed his pale face. But she had forgotten.

* * *

It had gone past midnight, when Arthur snuck out. Screw the rules, he was going to see Merlin and Merlin would come around. He'd make sure of it, knowing that his presence was a strong enough factor to bring the young man back. He needed him, more than ever. The whole episode with his father had left him shaken, troubled and worried as hell.

It hadn't taken him long to get adept at using the crutches. Not like the first time he'd used them. His leg felt much better. Merlin's magic no doubt working. The thought both rankled and awed him at the same time.

Lucky for him the coast was clear. This time of night the wards were clear of people. He just hoped Merlin was alone and there was no bossy nurse to tell him to go away.

He arrived at his door, slowly pushing it open. But Merlin wasn't alone. Someone was with him. It wasn't a nurse.

Even worse, it was Morgana.

What the hell was Morgana doing in Merlin's room?! She had her hands clasped, one over the other, holding them above Merlin's chest. Sudden fear gripped him. What was she doing to him?

"Morgana!" he exclaimed.

She looked up face pale, eyes red from crying. His heart thumped heavily in his chest. She remembered. He could see it clearly written all over her face. Oh hell.

"W-What are you doing to him?" he stammered.

He rushed into the room, the door swinging shut behind me.

She stiffened, her hands still held above Merlin. Time had stood still. She was going to kill him. He was about to lunge himself towards her, stop whatever it was she was about to do. And to hell with the consequences of what it would do to him.

"I-I'm ... trying to heal him," she murmured in a shaky voice.

It was the last thing Arthur expected to hear out of her mouth. Then he realised how much she liked Merlin now, but was it enough? Was it enough to stop her hatred? Please god, let it be, he silently begged.

"But you don't have magic now."

Her eyes widened in shock and surprise. Her face went ashen. "You remember?" she gasped.

He took a deep breath. Would he never learn to keep his mouth shut?

"Yes."

Her hands lowered.

"How long?"

"Since the explosion."

He could see the conflicting emotions cross her face.

"Y-You thought I was going to kill him?" Her voice sounded so sad and wretched.

"I ... I wasn't sure," his voice broke off there.

She was trembling. "I can't kill him. I know what I was ... what I had become ... and I-I don't want to be that again."

Her words both startled and touched him. He could see the sincerity in her eyes.

Arthur did, what needed to be done, he slowly and tenderly drew Morgana into his arms; holding her.

"It's in the past Morgana, none of it matters now," he murmured.

She clung to him. The sweet relief he felt, he couldn't even begin to explain. They stood there for several minutes, just holding each other and it felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

Morgana pulled back a fraction and looked up at him. "He spoke to me."

Arthur gazed down at Merlin's still pale face. He didn't look capable of speech. And he was definitely not conscious.

"Are you sure?"

She nodded. "He came around, just briefly."

Did that mean Merlin would be okay? Maybe the young man was merely sleeping now? A glimmer of hope filled his heart.

"What did he say?"

She hitched a deep breath. "Everyone lost."

Arthur went stock still at those words.

"You died; we all died, except him," she sighed, sadly, "He said he was cursed ... said there were times he wanted to die, so many times he wished he had done things differently."

Those words ate at his very soul. It was easy to forget Merlin had ever suffered. He was so adept at hiding his pain behind a quick smile, funny quirky words.

"He told me to remember who I really was before ... the person ... the good person with the kindest of hearts."

Arthur shut his eyes, tears threatened. Once again, Merlin had saved the day by helping Morgana to remember only the good. He gazed down at the young man, even in his current state. As much as it hurt to see him lying there so pale and defenceless, he fought the desire to wake him. Merlin needed his rest to recover.

"We should let him sleep."

They walked in silence back to his room. He glanced sideways at her pale drawn face, still in a state of disbelief. She had remembered and she was still the same sweet girl.

Morgana let out a empty bitter laugh. "Ironic isn't it that we still ended up with the same arsehole for a father."

"You got that part right," he muttered.

Morgana glanced at him, a slight frown crossing her forehead.

"Judging by the look on your face I'd swear you almost hate him as much as me now?"

"And with just cause," he muttered.

He found himself telling her about his father's visit that afternoon, how he had threatened him and extended Gwen's time spent at Camp Bastion.

"I still think he was bluffing about the prison thing," he said.

They were back in his room now. He was sitting on the bed, Morgana in the chair by his bed.

She went strangely still and quiet at his words. He looked at her puzzled, suddenly concerned by the dark shadows in her eyes.

"Morgana," he began, "What is it?"

She raised pain filled eyes to his. "He would do it Arthur."

He frowned.

"I know him, I know of past things that he's done." She took a deep breath. "Maybe it was about time I told you."

Arthur listened as she told him about her mother and what Uther had done to her. He had never known. It was no wonder Morgana hated their father so much. He didn't blame her.

He felt more connected to her than he ever had done. He also began to slowly realize that his father had a lot to answer for.

"Can't help who you have for a father," he muttered bitterly.

"There is only one thing we can do Arthur," she began, "Expose him for what he really is."

* * *

Morgana had left in the early hours of the morning and then it had taken him ages to get to sleep. When he finally did drift off to sleep it was surprisingly restful.

He had no sooner woken up when Gaius walked in with the results of his x-rays.

"You're leg," he began holding up the x-ray for him to see, "Two days ago there was no callus formation and now there is and it's advancing at a rapid rate."

"What does that mean Gaius?"

"You won't lose your leg and it will heal, the bones will knit up again, in fact better than ever could have been expected."

Arthur shut his eyes, so Gaius wouldn't see the tears forming.

"So Merlin's magic worked," he began, letting out a deep pained breath, "He still hasn't regained consciousness Gaius."

Gaius patted his shoulder. "He will."

Arthur wanted to believe him and yes he had spoken to Morgana last night, but that still didn't mean he would be alright.

"I tried to stop him using magic but he wouldn't listen."

His voice choked, giving away his emotional state. Damn Merlin.

"Yes, well that's Merlin for you, the amount of times I told that boy to lay low, not to get involved," Gaius shook his head, "Yet the number of times he didn't listen."

Arthur was starting to get a very clear picture of just how frustrating it must have been for Gaius.

"I swear that boy very nearly sent me to an early grave with the risks he used to take but he's Merlin Arthur, a warlock and the last of his kind and to tell Merlin 'no' is ... well futile."

Yes, he knew that, in bloody both lifetimes.

Once Gaius left Arthur determined it was time Merlin woke up.

He made his way to his room. Ignoring the nurse when she told him he couldn't see Merlin. He didn't care what they did to him, couldn't be any worse than his father threatening him with prison.

* * *

Everything ached. His head was thumping. One slight movement and it felt as if a thousand knives were prodding his brain. Something was niggling away at him, a thought ... no a memory.

Morgana – she was here. He tried to make sense of the hazy disjointed images rambling through his head. Did Morgana do this to him? Her distraught pale face flashed before him. She had been crying ... she had been so upset.

She had kissed him. He could still feel the softness of her lips on his.

'_Please wake up and tell me none of it happened.'_

'_It had ... happened.'_

What had happened? His head was just a jumbled mass of confused images.

'_Everyone lost Morgana.'_

Yes – lost ... he was lost ... he had lost everything. A deep searing pain pierced his heart. He could feel a hand rest on his shoulder. Morgana - he had to tell her something important. He had to help her, whilst he still could. Stop her from becoming ... _Just remember who you were before_.

"Merlin, wake up, Merlin!"

Definitely not Morgana, he would know that voice anywhere. Arthur ... he wasn't dead? Then it all came back to him in one quick flash. That life was over. It was present day, it was 2012.

Merlin forced his heavy eyelids open.

Arthur's hazy face came into view.

"A-Arthur," he softly murmured, a slow smile crossing his face.

The first thing Merlin noted was the relief in Arthur's eyes, the second; he didn't look happy.

In fact he looked really pissed off.

"It's been two days Merlin!"

He felt the smile vanish from his face, "T-Two days."

"What the hell were you thinking!" he continued, raking a hand through his hair.

"But you would have lost your leg ..." he began.

"So!" Arthur exploded. "I'd rather lose a leg than lose you," he continued hoarsely, "and it you ever do that again so help me god Merlin I'll kill you myself!"

Arthur's anger was feigned by his worry, Merlin knew him well enough by now.

"You always say that and you never do it," he glibly said to diffuse the tension.

Arthur stared pointedly at him. "This time I'm serious."

"No you're not."

"Merlin!"

"How's the leg by the way?"

"It's ... whatever you did it worked," he replied gruffly.

A slow smile crossed his face at the seemingly disgruntled look on Arthur's face.

"And everything's fine Arthur, I'm alright."

"You don't look alright."

"Neither do you."

"It's been hell these last two days," Arthur muttered. "Not to mention you missed all of the action."

Sudden memories took hold and Merlin tried to sit up, but the thousand knives piercing his head forced him to lie back down. He brought his hands up to his head.

"Morgana," he croaked.

He noticed the flash of sympathy mixed with concern in Arthur's eyes.

"Is fine, she remembers and she took it better than any of us thought she would."

"I saw her last night."

"I know."

How did Arthur know? Merlin looked at him surprised.

"I arrived not long after."

"You came to see me?"

"Tried several times but the nurses wouldn't let me."

"You were worried about me?"

Arthur rolled his eyes and snorted. "That's because you are a worry Merlin."

Then Arthur's face grew serious. "You can't keep risking you're neck to save mine."

Merlin averted his eyes. "Old habits die hard."

"Don't you ever think about yourself Merlin?"

That was a question he couldn't answer but he could see Arthur wanted one.

"Well you better start, because you were right all those years ago."

Merlin raised his eyes and looked at Arthur, suddenly curious.

"When I asked if you'd ever change and you said, no, I'd get bored."

Merlin was touched. "You remember that?"

A warmth filled Arthur's eyes. "I remember a lot of things."

Then he reached out a hand and ruffled his hair. "You seriously piss me off at times Merlin."

Merlin grinned. "Yeah but you don't want me to change remember."

Arthur shook his head as a slow smile crossed his face.

"Somehow I doubt you ever will."

.

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* * *

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**A/N: Thanks for reading. Please leave a review. I always really do love it when people tell me the parts they like the most. I do feel some of the scenes could have been better than what they were. That's the curse of a writer I guess. But if I deliberated on this anymore than I already have done it would never be uploaded! **

**.**


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N: I had intended for this to be the last chapter but it went for too long and as I hadn't finished it, it would be several more days before I could upload. As a result I decided to end this chapter where I have. The good news about that is the next chapter should be uploaded by the weekend as I've already written half of it. ****So this is now the second last chapter. I'm sorry it's taken me longer than usual to upload. I always find it really hard to write when I come to the end of a story. It seems to take me twice as long. I think this is because I want the ending to do justice to the story. **

**Thank you for all the reviews to date! I never for a moment thought this story would become as popular as it has done, neither had I thought it would go this long! I think it is now over 180,000 words! That's like writing a saga. Hmm, maybe this has become a saga? **

**That said, enjoy the next chapter of this saga of mine!**

* * *

_**Chapter 25.**_

* * *

It was a relief to see Merlin awake, though the young man still looked far too pale. It had been an anxious two day wait, a wait Percival could have done without. It had shaken him to his core when he had found Merlin's crumpled body on the floor of Arthur's room. Merlin was the only sane thing in his life since his memories had returned.

He would find himself reflecting for many hours on that other life. The memories would return as if wanting to be remembered and lived once again. Some memories hurt, but there were many others that filled him with a happiness and richness he had yet to experience this lifetime. Once he had known love, married and had children of his own. And Merlin had always been there, just as he should now. A life without Merlin in it was inconceivable to him. Merlin's face, the last thing he had seen, when he died. It had been comforting, fitting somehow, that Merlin held him; his lifelong friend. Seeing Merlin on the brink of death left a horrible ache in his heart.

"Merlin will pull through," Lancelot had reassured him, "He is strong."

Yes, and far stronger than anyone here would ever know other than Gwen. And none of them had seen Merlin broken, but he had. A man, after all, could only endure so much. Merlin had his limits.

He had taken Arthur's death hard, locked himself in his room for many days until Gwen had convinced him that he needed to return to the land of the living. In those earlier days Merlin rarely smiled anymore. But then none of them had. There hadn't been much to smile about. Those days had been dark. So much loss and too much grief, it had taken years for Camelot to rebuild itself.

Then there was all the fear, doubt and hate Merlin had to put up with once they all discovered he was a sorcerer.

_Merlin stood pale and thin in front of the court as the battle raged on what should be done about him? The elder men were set in their ways and beliefs, still withheld Uther's bigoted views on magic._

"_The laws regarding magic have not changed. Merlin is a sorcerer and should be judged accordingly."_

"_He should be burnt at the stake," another had yelled._

_It made Percival feel sick in the stomach. _

"_Without Merlin would any of us still be here to argue this?" Gwen threw back in their faces._

_He couldn't help but to admire her. Her face was pale, drawn and she looked to have lost weight, but she still held her head high._

"_It's time the laws changed."_

_Leon gave his testimony, spoke of Merlin's courage, the many times he had saved their lives and that he himself had only survived as a result of magic; magic the druids had used on him._

"_Why would the druids want to save a knight's life when all we have done is persecute them for the last thirty years?" he had said before the whole court, "Does not those actions speak of people with good intentions in their hearts, compassionate, kind. They showed me mercy when we had given them none."_

_His words echoed loud and clear, holding a startling truth that none could deny._

"_What's not to say he had planned for the King to die in the manner that he did all along?" one of the court members protested._

"_Why would a man most loyal to King Arthur want him dead?" Leon returned._

_The debate continued for many days, taking its toll on all of them but especially Merlin, who was too fragile at the moment. It had only been a month since Arthur's death and Gwaine's, none of them had recovered from it yet. It was like a heavy black cloud had descended upon Camelot._

_Behind closed doors in the council chambers, privy only to a selected few, they all regrouped; Gwen, Leon, Gaius, Merlin and himself. Merlin sat, legs drawn up, biting his thumbnail. Leon had poured himself a drink. Gauis stood, quietly contemplating and Gwen was pacing. There was a long lengthy silence. _

"_Maybe I should leave," Merlin spoke, breaking the gloomy silence._

_Percival straightened up in his chair, shocked. "No!"_

_His voice louder than he had intended, and the cup halfway to Leon's mouth froze. _

_Gwen turned to Merlin suddenly. "You cannot leave us Merlin," she exclaimed. "We have lost far too much already, you are one of us. You belong in Camelot."_

_Percival heard the desperation in her voice. "You know A-Arthur ..." her voice broke off there, and she began to sway unsteadily on her feet._

_Merlin was up and out of that chair before Percival had even blinked. He took hold of Gwen and gently lowered her into the chair he'd just vacated._

"_You see what this is doing to you Gwen," he murmured bitterly._

_A slow tired smile crossed her face. "It's not that Merlin. I just need something to eat."_

_She then took Merlin's hand, placing it across her lower abdomen. Percival watched as Merlin's eyes widened in shock._

"_Y-You're ..." he began, but words seemed to fail him._

"_Yes," Gwen whispered._

_A smile crossed Merlin's thin face, the first Percival had seen in a long while._

"_I'm carrying Arthur's child."_

_Merlin's eyes grew bright with unshed tears._

"_Soon you'll have another prat to put in its place," she lightly quipped._

_She placed her hand over Merlin's. "Just as much as Arthur needed you Merlin, so will this child."_

_Merlin blinked the tears away. Percival was still reeling from the news, but the heaviness that had resided in his heart lifted just a fraction._

"_What would Arthur say if you were to leave?" Gwen continued._

_A thoughtful look crossed Merlin's face as his eyes met with Gwen's. "You're the bravest man I know. I never took you to be a coward."_

_Gwen's smile widened. Merlin took a deep breath._

"_I will never leave, we can fight this and we can win."_

_Merlin strode back into the court room with purpose and renewed strength. And there in the small corner of the castle, a little ray of hope began to grow._

Percival hadn't been able to bring himself to visit Merlin in his unconscious state. It wasn't right to see the young man in that condition. It worried him, though he kept his thoughts to himself. The others wouldn't understand. The Merlin he had come to know in that other lifetime wasn't the gangly bumbling idiot Arthur believed him to be, though he was aware that Merlin meant far more to Arthur than he would let anyone know.

Arthur's attachment to the young man had bemused and touched him. They often squabbled like brothers had a tendency to do, Percival would know, he had had three brothers. Arthur was the typical older brother, bossy and always ordering Merlin about. Often taking his frustrations out on the young man, but also confiding in Merlin when he thought no one else was around to see. When Merlin went missing the King was relentless in his search for him. Percival would often notice the pained, worried shadows in his eyes and he had come to the conclusion that Merlin meant a hell of a lot to him. At that time he couldn't quite understand it. Sure everybody liked Merlin. Most the knights were fond of him and quietly admired the gangly young man. He was brave, always by Arthur's side and had a mischievous sense of humour. Often making some cheeky remark to Arthur that would have the rest of them quietly sniggering. They would wait with baited breath as to how much Merlin could say and get away with before Arthur would lose it. Sometimes they even had bets running, always instigated by Gwaine.

Percival had the sneaking suspicion that Gwaine would put Merlin up to it. He'd sometimes see Gwaine whisper a word into Merlin's ear followed by a big grin crossing Merlin's face.

Those days and those memories would bring a smile to Percival's face. After Arthur had died he had in many ways taken on the role of looking out for Merlin. No one dared insult the young man in front of him. They were a tight knit group now, just Leon, Merlin and himself were all that was left from the original Knights of the Round Table. Although Merlin wasn't technically speaking a knight, he was still one in body and spirit as far as Percival was concerned.

Since the memories had returned Percival hadn't had much of a chance to talk to Merlin on his own, not with Arthur constantly by his side. Though during their many conversations in the recreation room with Arthur, Gwaine and Lancelot, he would find his eyes resting on Merlin and those other memories from that other time would resurface. What had happened to Merlin after Camelot fell? The man had experienced so many losses and grief, Percival couldn't begin to imagine it. Despite Merlin's cheerful manner he often glimpsed the haunted look in his eyes. Sometimes their eyes would meet, and they would exchange a shared understanding. There had been plenty of times, and lived experiences when it was just the two of them.

When Gwaine informed him that Merlin had woken up, such was his relief, that he had to quickly avert his face from Gwaine's to wipe away the single tear that slid down his cheek. Thank god, he inwardly murmured.

When he walked into Merlin's room just after lunch, Merlin smiled warmly and quipped.

"Don't tell me, you're going to kill me too?"

Percival shook his head. "No, I already know how futile it is to tell you what to do."

He sat down in the chair by Merlin's bed, his eyes resting on his face.

"Just don't scare me like that again," he continued. "Life without you in it Merlin ... wouldn't be the same."

Merlin appeared touched by his words. "I remember you saying that to me before, long ago."

He smiled. "We fought many battles then and not just physical ones."

* * *

Arthur really didn't mean to eavesdrop. But he couldn't help himself. He was just about to walk into Merlin's room when he saw Percival sitting at his bedside. He didn't know why he just didn't announce he was there, but they both looked engaged in a serious conversation. So he stepped back, was about to head to his room when he heard the words, _'so many years it took for them to accept you.'_ Percival had spoken them and Arthur's curiosity was aroused.

They were talking about the past. Merlin had answered any and every question he'd asked, but somehow it was different when hearing two people, who had lived then, discussing it.

There was a look of deep kinship between the two. Arthur had seen it before, choosing to ignore the funny fluttering in his stomach. It kind of sucked dying early on in the picture, then listening to people who had lived on talking about a time he wasn't there. It was probably the hardest thing he had found to deal with since the memories had returned.

The many questions that had plagued him over the last month came back. Why were they really all here again? What did the future that looked so uncertain at present, hold for them? Would he ever get to be with Gwen? Would Merlin always be by his side? How long would they live this time around? Was there another war to come, one where he was to play a large part in? They did, ironically, all happen to be in the Army. Then there was the Pendragon Industries he was supposed to, one day, takeover from his father. Hell would freeze over before he did. He wanted no part of it.

He certainly wasn't as naive or trusting as he had been in the previous life. But he was just as bound by what was expected of him, especially that of his father. He was still fuming about it. Upset with Gwen for giving her word to his father. He hadn't even told Merlin about it yet. Maybe Gwen had?

"Penny for your thoughts Arthur?" a voice asked.

He blinked and looked up at Percival. Seemed he was caught. He felt his cheeks redden.

"I was just ... thinking."

"No good can come of that Arthur," Merlin cheekily quipped from his bed.

Well it looked as if Merlin's sense of humour had returned, Arthur dryly mused.

Percival smiled, patted him on the shoulder. "He's all yours."

Percival moved on and Arthur entered Merlin's room, glad to finally be able to sit down. It was a major pain in the ass getting around on crutches. He still had months of it too, hopefully not eight like the doctors had grimly predicted. Maybe Merlin's magic might have sped the process up?

He glanced at Merlin. "You two looked cosy," he said, noticing the hint of jealousy in his voice and cursing it.

Merlin must have also noticed given the slight puzzled frown denting his forehead.

"We had a lot to talk about," he slowly replied, "Are you jealous Arthur?"

"Don't be absurd Merlin," he scoffed.

But he could tell Merlin didn't believe him.

He sighed. "Alright then, maybe I do resent that he got to spend 30 odd years with you, and you both obviously became mates in that time, raised my kid I never got to meet, and probably had many adventures along the way, like the ones you and I had ..."

"Not quite," Merlin interrupted, "Like what you and I had."

He saw the brief flicker of pain in Merlin's eyes. Arthur felt stupid now for his outburst. It was hardly fair of him to be ranting like this when Merlin still looked like death warmed up.

"Nothing replaced what you and I had," he continued making him feel even worse.

He shook his head. "I'm just being an idiot."

Merlin slowly smiled. "What you? Never."

He felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth. But the smile left his face as he watched Merlin struggle into a sitting position and he silently fumed. Merlin, the real idiot here, wasn't moving with the same freedom he had before casting that spell on his leg. Though it had only been one day since he had regained consciousness.

Merlin reached for the glass of water on his bedside table.

"You see," Arthur couldn't help pointing out, "You shouldn't have cast that spell on my leg."

"I'll be fine in a few days," he returned with a dismissive wave of his hand.

Not the answer Arthur wanted to hear. He noticed the way Merlin's hand shook when he held the glass of water to his lips.

"You're not immortal anymore Merlin?"

Merlin gave him a relieved look. "Yeah and I'm really glad about that too."

Morgana's words from last night suddenly came back to mind, _'He said he was cursed, said there were times he wanted to die, so many times he wished he'd done things differently.'_

Arthur swallowed. It was pointless to press Merlin though. Merlin would only ever discuss what he felt he should. As much as it frustrated Arthur, he also came to the conclusion; that's just who Merlin was. He never put himself first, was reluctant to talk much about himself either.

Arthur wasn't the best with handling emotions as it were, even though he found himself wanting to get inside Merlin's head so he could figure him out.

If he thought deeply enough about it, what he wanted was total honesty from Merlin now. There had been too many lies and too many wasted years. It still left an empty feeling in the pit of Arthur's stomach. It had nothing to do with trust, he'd trust Merlin with ... well everything. No it was more to do with the fact that Merlin didn't open himself up to him in the way Arthur wanted. Not that he blamed the young man. No doubt all those years of old habits were hard to break. In as many ways, Merlin had also erected a wall around his heart, much like Gwen, only his was well hidden. It was still there all the same. Arthur wanted to tear it down.

"You never did like to discuss you Merlin," he blurted out.

Merlin appeared, momentarily, startled by those words before replying. "I never could."

Arthur shook his head. "There were times," he began, "I think you could have told me." His voice cracked on the last few words.

"There were so many times when I wanted too," the young man softly returned.

He tried to fight back the many turbulent emotions swirling through him. "I wished you had."

"So do I," Merlin admitted.

Again those unspoken words, _so_ _many times I wished I had done things differently, _hung in the space between them. A long, awkward silence followed, whereas Arthur began inspecting his fingernails as a means of distraction, ignoring the painful thud of his heart.

"Alright Arthur, spit it out," Merlin spoke at length.

He took a deep breath. "I just don't get it Merlin," he muttered, "In all those years you never sought any credit. You were always there for me, but I was never there for you, and when I tried you actually never let me. All the times I asked you what was wrong, you never once were honest, or felt you could be honest with me." He raked a hand through his hair, as emotion got the better of him. "It's like I never knew the real you, and I'm not just talking about you having magic, I'm talking about YOU Merlin, the real you, who you are inside."

He swallowed the lump in his throat and raised his eyes to Merlin's expecting some kind of brush over, a joke of sorts, but not the hint of tears in his eyes. It made him swear under his breath wishing he'd kept his fat mouth shut.

"The heart is sometimes a fragile thing Arthur. It has to be safeguarded."

These were words he understood but it still hurt to hear. Is that what Merlin was doing in that time? Safeguarding his heart?

"It's like the longer you keep a secret," he slowly began with a deep sigh, "The longer you hide who you really are; the harder it is to ... be you. I kind of forgot along the way. I kind of lost part of myself, forgot what I once was, a boy full of hope and optimism. You get jaded Arthur. The burden of trying to fulfill my so called destiny weighted me down. And then I failed in the end anyway, and afterwards all I could think of _'what was the point of it all?_'

Arthur was sorry he had asked now. Hated seeing the pain in Merlin's eyes, knowing he had put it there. Raising a hand he lightly squeezed Merlin's thin shoulder. Merlin blinked back tears.

"Things are going to be different this time around," he stated, "It isn't just about me and you always saving my ass, this friendship goes both ways."

A slow tentative smile crossed Merlin's face. "Yeah I like the sounds of that."

"So you don't shut me out anymore," he continued. "If you're pissed at me then you tell me."

"Well I always have done that Arthur," Merlin quipped.

True, Arthur mused, "But you don't when you hurt Merlin."

Merlin grimaced. "That might take me a while, not use to that."

"Well get use to it," he muttered gruffly.

"Yes Sire," he returned with a mock salute.

Arthur shook his head.

"It's Sir, not Sire you idiot, besides I'm not exactly the same person as I was then," he continued.

"I know. You're not such a dollop head now."

He let out a brief laugh. "You really don't change Merlin."

"No, you'd get bored."

He leant forward in his seat and stared at Merlin intently. What he began to realize then and there, that despite Merlin being a so called powerful sorcerer, despite he'd lived so long, Merlin beneath it all was really kind of vulnerable; still very much the boy with a need for acceptance.

"I tell what will change though," he began, "You," he continued, pointing a finger at him, "Will never lie again and not use any magic spells to fix me till you're better."

"What about the burns to your legs, if I don't heal them soon it'll be too late for me to do so."

Arthur could hardly believe his ears. Did Merlin never listen? He glared at him.

"So, they are just burns Merlin."

"There third degree burns Arthur," he glibly pointed out.

"Really," he drawled sarcastically, feeling his patience slip, "I hadn't noticed."

Merlin appeared taken back for a moment.

"You, have to start thinking about you and not do anything stupid."

"You're beginning to sound like Gaius," he grumbled.

"Yeah well I'm beginning to understand Gaius' frustrations," he muttered. "And there is no need for you to use magic right now. We are not living in a world full of sorcerers with evil intentions ..."

"You sure about that?" Merlin quipped.

Times like this Arthur had to resist the urge to throw something at him.

"Maybe not sorcerers but definitely people with evil intentions," he continued.

He had a point; like his father for instance.

"Gwen rang me this morning and told me all about it," he spoke as if having read his mind.

Arthur let out a bitter sigh. "When you are better Merlin, I'll have no qualms about you using magic on him."

"I already did in that other lifetime."

He sat up straight and looked at him. "You mean when you tried to heal him?"

"Which would have worked, but unknown to me Morgana had given Agravaine an enchanted necklace that would kill him quicker once anyone used magic, but that is not what I'm talking about Arthur."

Arthur was confused.

"Your father was going to kill you, remember, when you accidentally brought his ghost back?"

He remembered the moment, _'Then you will have to kill me. I am not you, Father. I can't rule the way you did.'_

'_Camelot must come before all else. Even you.'_

Nothing had changed, he bitterly thought. Whatever happened next he couldn't recall and glanced at Merlin for answers.

"I told him to get away from you. He'd caused enough harm. You're father told me this was his kingdom, that I couldn't drive him from it. I was nothing more than a serving boy."

Just how many telling conversations had Merlin had with him being unconscious?

"I told him, I am much more than that," Merlin continued. "Once he realised I had magic his fury was unstoppable and I think you remember the rest Arthur."

He did. His father looming over Merlin, Merlin trapped by a spear either side of him,_ 'It'll give me great pleasure killing you.'_

Those words had chilled him as much as it had broken his heart. _'Father!'_

'_Arthur! No! Please. Whatever I've done, I have done for Camelot.'_

'_You've had your turn. Now it's mine.'_

* * *

Arthur had sent her a text that morning to let her know Merlin was awake. The first thing Gwen did was call him. She needed the reassurance of hearing Merlin's voice for herself before driving the one hour journey to the hospital.

She had probably had the worst night sleep ever, worried sick about Merlin's condition and then there had been the whole horrible, ugly confrontation with Uther. It had left her shaken far more than she had admitted to Arthur. At that time she had been more worried about Arthur, wanting to protect him.

Soon as she heard Merlin's voice, tears of relief filled her eyes. Then she began blurting out everything that happened. Uther had threatened Arthur. Uther had found some way to have her posting at Camp Bastion extended, and on and on she went.

Poor Merlin. He always had copped the brunt of her exasperation's, frustrations and pain. Forty years of sharing everything with him made it all far too easy to do so. He was every bit her confidante, of the male kind.

After hanging up and telling Merlin she would be in to see him soon, Gwen spent the next half an hour fussing over her appearance. Trying to cover up the dark rings under her eyes with foundation, her thoughts drifting to Arthur.

Watching Arthur stand up to his father the other day had filled her with a sense of satisfaction, soon followed by dread. She had no qualms about Uther following through on his threats.

She had felt sorry for Arthur. Least her parents had loved her, they were sane. And it seemed they had to; once again, hide their feelings for each other. Nothing had changed! The thought of Uther extending her time at Camp Bastion had infuriated her. She would be far away from everyone she cared about. She didn't know how she was going to bear it? She had even lain in bed last night considering going AWOL. After all what was the worst thing that could possibly happen to her if she did? A lot in fact, and she soon dismissed the idea. Like it or lump it she had no choice but to serve her time in the Army. Her, and Arthur were merely puppets on Uther's string. Not only that, but she had given the insufferable man her word! The look on Arthur's face still haunted her.

She could only hope Uther would drop dead from a heart attack or something and soon. She felt no remorse at those thoughts. The sooner Uther was out of their lives the better. They wouldn't be free until he was.

When Gwen entered Merlin's room, anxious to see him because Merlin would know what to do, she was startled to see Arthur there. He appeared as equally surprised. Her eyes drank in the sight of him. He looked as haggard as she felt. Then she realised Merlin wasn't there and her heart leapt into her throat.

"Where's Merlin?"

"He had to go have some scan of his head."

Gwen's lips twitched at his choice of words. "He's alright though?"

Arthur nodded, looking very much like a small boy, lost and unsure. Her heart went out to him. Would she never stop loving this man?

They stood for a long silent moment staring at each other. Her heart thumping in her chest at the mere sight of him, and it had been incredibly hard to stay away from him the last two days. Judging by the expression in his eyes, he felt exactly the same way. This had to be the epitome of self inflicted torture.

"Guinevere," he murmured.

He barely called her that now. It broke what little resolve she had. "Arthur," she sighed.

Before she knew it, Gwen found herself in his arms. His lips were upon hers, filled with desperation and need. Time hung suspended as his lips roamed hers.

Finally they broke apart. With a heartsick moan Gwen buried her face against his throat. And as unwise as she knew it was, nothing could have prevented the words from pouring out. "It hurts so much loving you! Because nothing has changed."

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he murmured, his hands cupping her face, the kisses he scattered over her face were feverish, moist and filled with longing.

Her heart couldn't keep taking this. But she was loath to let him go. She wanted him, and badly. They had been separated for so many many years. Even after his death she had never forgotten him. She doubted she ever would.

His hands were in her hair now, toying with the errant strands. The warmth in his eyes making her toes curl.

"You know I think I prefer it shorter, I kind of like the way the curls wrap themselves around my fingers," he said, voice husky.

She snuggled into him. "Kind of like the jeans too," he whispered in her ear.

"So do I."

"You have a sexy ass."

"That's not why I wear them."

"Don't go killing my fantasies Gwen."

She couldn't help the laughter bubbling up in her throat.

"I've always been a bit of a tomboy actually."

The warmth in his eyes entirely her undoing as her fingers lovingly caressed his face.

"I think my mother despaired I'd ever be a lady," she continued, voice husky.

"You are definitely a lady," his thumb brushing against her lips. "And a very sexy tomboy at that," he murmured his breath warm against her mouth.

"A sexy tomboy," she lightly quipped.

He pulled her tighter to himself. "My sexy tomboy," his breath hot against the curls that encircled her neck, this man was playing havoc with her heart and totally unaware of it.

"My Guinevere," he murmured.

She shut her eyes as his lips rained kisses down her neck to her shoulders before his lips claimed hers. So immersed in that kiss neither of them heard anyone approach.

"Oh that is disgusting." Came a voice and they broke apart so quickly, Arthur very nearly fell over.

Probably would have if Gwen didn't grab him.

He glared down at Merlin, who was grinning with amusement.

"You making out in my room now?" he continued, "You even scared the poor nurse away."

For a moment Arthur's voice got stuck in his throat.

"She took one look at the two of you snogging and ran out the room." His smiled widened. "Screaming I might add."

Arthur clenched his jaw and shook his head. "As always Merlin, your timing is impeccable."

Gwen chuckled beside him and went to hug Merlin. "Thank god you're alright," she breathed and ruffled his hair, the smile left her face and was replaced with a frown. "Merlin, when was the last time you combed your hair?"

"I've only been unconscious for two days," he protested in his defense.

Gwen raised a skeptical eyebrow, "Before then?"

He opened his mouth, frowned in thought, shutting his mouth.

"Figures," Gwen muttered with a shake of her head, and moving to his bedside locker she pulled a comb out of the top drawer.

She handed Merlin the comb. He stared down at it as if it was about to bite.

"What?!" He glanced up at her gobsmacked, "Now?"

Arthur was beginning to find the whole moment sort of amusing. He sat down in the chair, his leg was beginning to ache and his underarms were rubbed raw from those damn crutches.

"I don't think I can," Merlin continued stubbornly, "I'm not feeling up to it."

Gwen gave him a patient look. "Fine, I'll do it for you."

"No," he squeaked, "Leave it be ... Gwen."

However, Gwen wouldn't take no for an answer. Merlin began to squirm in discomfort as she pulled the comb through his hair. Arthur couldn't stop the wide grin crossing his face.

"Ouch! That hurts," Merlin whined.

"That's because it's full on knots."

"C'mon Merlin, stop being such a girl," Arthur chimed in.

Merlin glared at him.

Arthur watched with amusement as Gwen continued to fuss over Merlin and the somewhat perturbed expression on the young man's face. Gwen had now insisted that he should be wearing a jacket, it was cold. Then she went on about how he needed to eat better. After a time Merlin shot him an imploring look as if to say, _can you not to do something about her?_

She really tended to mother him. It was kind of enduring. She would make a good mother one day, then it suddenly dawned on him; she was one once.

"Why don't I just slip out the room again," Merlin suggested, "leave the two of you to continue doing whatever it was you were doing before."

Arthur was in total agreement.

"But I'm not supposed to," she began hesitatingly. "I gave my word."

"Technically speaking Gwen," he pointed out, "You are not really breaking your word if you decide to visit Merlin and I just happen to be here."

A slow, bemused smile crossed her face. She glanced at Merlin, bit down on her lip. "He looks tired though and he should be in bed."

Arthur inwardly sighed but when he glanced at Merlin he had to accede she was right. Merlin looked exhausted. He wasn't protesting either, a clear sign he was feeling as haggard as he looked.

"Yeah, I think you're right," he agreed. "Merlin, off to bed at once."

He could help adding that part. Merlin merely rolled his eyes and snorted. But the pallor of his skin was beginning to concern him, doubled by the fact that he wasn't coming back with a witty retort either.

Gwen helped him out of the wheelchair and on to the bed. Even that seemed an effort for the young man. Arthur refrained from saying anything. He felt a tightness coil in his stomach. It just wasn't right and it wasn't fair.

Morgana walked into the room just as Gwen had Merlin settled into bed. She stood there looking apprehensive as her eyes swept from him, Gwen and Merlin. She smiled warmly at Merlin, took the few steps to his bedside, a brown paper bag in her hand with the distinctive MacDonald's logo on it.

"Merlin," she spoke, holding out the bag to him. "I just thought you might be sick of hospital food. And you need fattening up."

Merlin appeared touched by her thoughtfulness. "Thanks," he stammered, taking the paper bag from her.

Why was it that everyone felt compelled to fuss over Merlin?

"Um, don't mind me, I'll be fine, I'll just sit here, don't think about buying me any MacDonald's, even though I've lived on nothing but hospital food as well for the last month."

"I think his royal highness has just spoken," Merlin lightly quipped.

"It's not as if you need fattening up Arthur," Morgana remarked. "In fact you should probably start watching what you eat," she continued with a sly grin, "you won't be able to exercise for months to burn off the calories."

He felt like wiping the teasing smirk from her face. Then she had the audacity to stroll over to him, bend down and pinch his waist.

"You don't want to end up with love handles."

He smacked her hand away annoyed. He looked up in time to notice the hint of amusement in Gwen's eyes and scowled.

Morgana straightened up and also looked in Gwen's direction. Arthur noticed the sudden apprehension steal over Gwen's face. Then much to his astonishment Morgana went up to Gwen and pulled her into a warm embrace.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, "For what I did to you."

Gwen blinked stunned, before her arms also went around Morgana. The two young women held each other for what seemed like ages, laughing and crying. Arthur felt amazingly happy, like everything was right again, well almost right. He looked at Merlin and saw the warm, happy smile on his face, despite his tiredness. And he really was beginning to look wearier by the minute.

"We should go and leave you in peace Merlin," he said to him.

"No, don't, please, I want you to stay. I'll sleep either way. It's comforting to have you all here."

Of course, he understood. Merlin had spent far too many years alone. He didn't want to be alone any longer.

* * *

They discussed his father, what they were going to do about him. Morgana was sure she could dig up some dirt on him. Only it would have to wait till she next had R&R. She was also due to fly back out to Camp Bastion in a week's time. Arthur could scarcely believe she was now his ally. It was going to be so quiet when they all left. The thought of not seeing Gwen for months still left a bitter taste in his mouth.

At least he would have Merlin. He glanced at him. Merlin, unnoticed by them, had fallen fast asleep. His eyelashes flickered darkly against the pallor of his skin. His breathing however was steady and even. He looked not much more than a boy, so innocent. It still amazed Arthur that someone like Merlin could be a sorcerer, and a powerful one at that. To him Merlin was just Merlin, more human than anyone else he knew; unabatedly loyal.

Gwen and Morgana had stopped chatting and were also gazing down at Merlin. There was no need for words, judging by the expression on everyone's face they were thinking the same thing as him.

Morgana stepped closer to Merlin's bed, brushing a dark lock of hair from his forehead she murmured, "We are only all here because of Merlin."

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**A/N: Thanks for reading. As I hadn't planned to end the chapter here, as mentioned at the beginning, I feel it's a bit sort of rushed. But this chapter has taken me soooo long to write I just wanted to put it out there. **

**The next chapter will be the last one but I've set it up in a way that a sequel can follow. I know the action is moving really slowly, but as it's all about everyone remembering it's kind of hard to write it any other way.**

**Please review. I always love the feedback.**


	27. Chapter 27

**A/N: Alas this is the final chapter! **

**Author notes will be at the end of the chapter but I do want to say one thing here and that is a very special thank you to my regular reviewers. Your encouragement and reviews for each chapter along this journey has meant a hell of a lot to me and inspired me in so many ways. **

**I am honoured to be able to share this story with the Merlin fanfic community. I have loved bringing these characters back to life and writing all of their shared moments together. Thank you to all of the ongoing support, guest reviews, all reviewers that have said lots of encouraging and wonderful things about this little (not really little!) story of mine. **

**That said, enjoy!**

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* * *

_**Chapter 26.**_

* * *

Three days had passed since he'd woken up, and he still wasn't as strong as he'd been before casting the spell on Arthur's leg. Not that he was about to tell Arthur that. Arthur now scolded as much, if not more, than Gaius. But unlike previous lifetime, Arthur was a lot more astute and observant. There was no pulling the wool over his eyes anymore. The conversation they had had the other day confirmation of that. '_It's like I never knew the real you, and I'm not just talking about you having magic, I'm talking about YOU Merlin, the real you, who you are inside.'_

Truth is he had spent so many hundreds of years hiding who and what he was. He had to be guarded. It became so ingrained in him that he didn't know how to be any other way. He had denied himself a lot of things in fear of becoming too attached, and the pain of loss he was well aware he would suffer as a result.

In the last month he had watched all of his friends remember who they were. It had been more painful for some than others. He could tell Arthur felt hurt by his lack of honesty in the past. He knew he didn't hold it against him now, but it still hurt him.

Merlin hated the thought of hurting anyone, especially Arthur. He could also tell that Arthur resented his friendship with Percival. He didn't know what to do about that? Arthur was kind of strangely possessive, though he would never admit it in a million years. He still had that brusque way with words, especially in front of other people. Like trying to act as if he didn't care when Merlin knew he probably cared more than anyone else. He also knew Arthur was still fuming that he'd used magic on his leg. He had now gotten into the habit of finding the one spot to sit in, not moving so Arthur wouldn't notice his lack of mobility. He tried not to frown when his head was thumping so Arthur wouldn't say, _'I told you not to do it.' _

He felt embarrassed every time he had to move because he was so much slower at it now than he had been before, painfully slow. His speech may have been unaffected but the paralysis down the left side of his body had worsened as a result. He'd often find himself dozing off in the middle of a conversation, especially when Gwaine was talking, because well Gwaine could talk the hind leg off a dog. Then he would profusely apologise, which Gwaine would dismiss, but not Arthur. No Arthur couldn't help himself but say stuff like, _'you wouldn't be like this Merlin if you hadn't used magic.' _Merlin just wished he would shut up, but no, Arthur had to remain miffed about it.

"Can't you just say thank you?" he'd snapped yesterday out of frustration.

"See it from my perspective Merlin, every time I see you struggling it bothers me, because I was the cause of it."

"But you weren't," he began in protest. "I wanted to do it."

"For me, you're always doing things for me, but it needs to stop. You need to start thinking about yourself."

Not that again. He really didn't want to have that conversation again.

"You know what, I have the worse headache right now, I think I need to lie down," he'd said in an attempt to get Arthur to leave.

"No you don't," Arthur returned, "You're just trying to get rid of me."

Yep, Arthur totally and completely saw straight through him these days.

* * *

Merlin spent the morning trying to get around using the walking stick. He was determined to get better at it so Arthur would shut up. He managed a few steps, which wasn't much progress. He could hear Gaius' voice in his head, _'these things take time Merlin. You shouldn't rush it. You need to rest.'_

He was so sick of being stuck in that bed, sick of resting. And right now if the prat himself turned up and started going on about him using his magic on his leg, Merlin would be tempted to agree; _'You're so right Arthur.'_

He wondered what Arthur would say if he said that? He was so immersed in his little daydream that he didn't notice his walking stick catch on the leg of a chair. He lost his balance and would have toppled over if two pair of strong hands hadn't caught him.

He quickly glanced up into Lancelot's face.

"Thank god you're not Arthur," he breathed in sudden relief.

"Yes, he wouldn't have been able to catch you," Lancelot began, "And he would be pretty pissed with you right now."

"What else is new," he sighed.

Lancelot didn't reply and he glanced into his face with dismay, "Not you too."

"You can't blame him."

Merlin didn't want to hear this. His head was thumping now from his near fall. He felt nauseous.

"You alright Merlin?" he asked in sudden concern.

"I-I need to sit down."

He helped him to his bed. Merlin sat on the edge of the bed feeling miserable. Dare he even say - sorry for himself? Self pity, ugh, he hated it. It's seldom he went there, but he had his moments. He couldn't even bring himself to be forcibly cheerful. Not that he felt he had to be in front of Lancelot. But he wasn't prepared for the tears that threatened.

"I know you did what you felt to do, because that's you and I don't think you'll ever change, but Arthur feels bad because he takes it personally, because he cares about you. It pains him to see you like this."

His words were not helping with the tears. He felt them slide down his cheeks. Felt Lancelot's hands rest on his shoulders, but he couldn't bring himself to look at him. He felt too ashamed. Here he was sniveling like a boy when he'd only lived 1,400 years. One would think somewhere along the line he would have forgotten how to feel. Now it felt like all his bottled up emotions were about to come pouring out. He shuddered.

"Maybe I shouldn't have," he murmured despondently, "Used that healing spell on Arthur's leg, but it's like when you have a gift or a skill you want to use it. It's such a part of you that you can't ignore it ... a-and I just don't think of the repercussions at the time. I don't think about what it'll do to me. If I was born this way, then I was this way for a reason. I cannot help it. I can't be any other way."

He kept his eyes glued to the floor. The last thing he wanted was to see pity in Lancelot's eyes.

"I don't know how to be," he muttered.

He felt Lancelot's hand squeeze his shoulder. "You don't have to be."

He looked up at him, "But Arthur expects ..." the words froze on his lips.

There stood the man himself, in his doorway and Merlin hoped he hadn't heard a word he said. Just how long had he been there?

"What's happened now?" he exclaimed, hobbling into his room.

Terrific, this was just going from bad to worse.

"Why are you crying?"

Merlin hastily wiped his eyes, this was even better, he bitterly thought, Arthur catching him sniveling.

"Merlin nearly fell over ..." Lancelot began.

"You fell over!" he began in a low, incredulous voice.

"Nearly, Lancelot caught me."

Those words were supposed to reassure Arthur so why didn't he look reassured?

"What we're you doing out of bed unassisted? You know you're not supposed to be, didn't you hear the nurse tell you about a dozen times already."

Merlin could tell he was only just getting started with his tirade. He rolled his eyes and blurted out, "I never knew you could nag so much."

That shut Arthur up, but he merely scoffed as Merlin knew he would.

"Gwen fuses, you nag," he tilted his head to one side, "You could almost be my parents with the way you both carry on."

Arthur didn't look amused.

"I do not nag Merlin, but Gwen does fuss over you."

He shot him an skeptical look. "You do so – nag."

"When exactly?"

"All the time."

Arthur just scowled.

"I think you've replaced the hitting me from the previous time with now nagging me this lifetime," he glibly remarked.

Arthur opened his mouth, about to protest, but then shut it again. "It's not going to work Merlin. I see what you are trying to do here. You are trying to change this conversation to weasel your way out of telling me why you are upset."

He sighed. Arthur really was becoming too astute.

"Alright then," he muttered, heavily, "I was feeling sorry for myself. You're right, since casting that spell on your leg I can't do anything. My head hurts all the time, I can't move my left leg or arm and all I want to do is sleep and it's getting to me."

He blurted it all out quickly, holding his breath. If Arthur wanted the damn truth then he had it.

He swallowed and looked up at him. Arthur appeared momentarily surprised, but the look of surprise was soon replaced with one of understanding, and a certain determination.

"Lancelot can you help Merlin into the wheelchair?"

"Sure."

Lancelot helped him off the bed. Merlin was still staring at Arthur puzzled as he lowered him into the wheelchair. A small smile twitched at Arthur's mouth.

"What are you doing?" he asked him.

"You obviously need a pick me up Merlin," he replied.

A what? What was Arthur planning now?

He was taken to the cafeteria. Lancelot returned with three hot fudge sundaes, placing one directly in front of him on the table.

Merlin looked at it dubiously.

"Don't tell me you've never had one of these before," Arthur sighed with a shake of his head. "It's about time you lived a little Merlin, now eat."

He picked up the spoon and took a mouthful. The ice-cream was sweet. The fudge warm in his mouth and nothing had tasted so good. Arthur was right. It did make him feel better.

He glanced at him noting the pleased look on his face.

"Good, hey?"

He nodded, feeling his lips curve up into a smile. He felt oddly touched by Arthur's thoughtfulness. Watched him and Lancelot eat their ice-cream, mused how they were like three big kids. This day wasn't turning out not so bad after all.

* * *

His room was obviously the _'go to place' _at the current moment, Merlin mused. He'd barely had any time alone. If it wasn't Gwaine trying to entertain him, Percival wanting to chat about old times, Gwen fusing, Arthur nagging or Morgana needing confirmation she wasn't evil. Lancelot appeared the most laid back out of everyone. He would sit quietly but seemingly entertained by what was happening around him. Needless to say he had seen all of these people, constantly, over the last several days, and he wouldn't have it any other way. He was perfectly happy, too happy. It kind of scared him. He wasn't used to feeling this content.

The only thing that weighed heavily on him was the knowing that everyone would be going back to Camp Bastion in just a couple of days. Arthur was to be discharged from hospital as well, though he would be spending several months at home before he could return to work. Merlin had come to the conclusion that he would be all alone, and he didn't like the thought.

"How long before I'm discharged from hospital?" he'd asked Gaius that morning.

He was itching to get out of the place. He'd been idle for so long now it was driving him crazy. Today did see a slight improvement in his mobility. He was moving with the walking stick better than he had the day before, but it was still slow going.

"They will do another CT scan on your brain in a week's time and take it from there."

"A whole week!" he'd exclaimed.

Gaius had patted his shoulder sympathetically. "These things can't be rushed Merlin. You're lucky to be alive and using that healing spell on Arthur was foolish to say the least."

He averted his eyes. "But he would have lost his leg."

How many times was he to hear it?

Gaius sighed. "Yes, but it's not the dark ages anymore Merlin, Arthur could still live a perfectly normal life minus one leg, and it wouldn't have been his whole leg, they would have only amputated from just above the knee."

"Well now they don't have too and I'm fine."

"You are not fine," Gaius chided. "You suffered a severe head injury, a depressed skull fracture with an epidural haematoma and blood clots that had to be surgically removed."

Merlin began to fidget uncomfortable under Gaius' stern gaze. He was well aware of it.

"Your magic has allowed your brain to heal itself faster than the average person. You are indeed uniquely made but you can still die like the rest of us Merlin."

Yes, so Arthur had told him countless times already. He really would be glad when he was no longer an invalid so everyone would get off his back and stop nagging him.

* * *

On the fifth day his room was unusually quiet. He was bored. His magic shifting restlessly inside of him, it felt like an annoying itch he couldn't scratch. Maybe if he could just release a little magic it would relieve it? And he was about to do something that he probably shouldn't. Opening his bedside draw he pulled out the wooden carved dragon his father had given him. He tenderly stroked the wooden carving before uttering the words, '_Bebiede pe arisan cwicum'_. The little dragon sprung to life, bringing a smile to Merlin's lips.

It flapped its wings and began to chirp.

"Long time no see Nirnin."

At that moment Gwaine and Percival entered his room. The little dragon took flight. Gwaine's eyes widened in shock, Percival grinned. "Is that Nirnin?"

Merlin nodded. "I thought he needed a day out."

The little dragon had landed on the window sill and Gwaine, dazed, walked towards it.

"I-Is that a dragon?"

Gwaine reached out a hand to touch it.

"I wouldn't do that," Merlin quickly told him.

But Gwaine, being Gwaine, ignored his words and tried to grab the dragon.

* * *

When Arthur entered Merlin's room he was met with the most unusual sight. He had to rub his eyes to make sure he wasn't seeing things.

"Oi Merlin, get him off me," Gwaine was yelling, swatting his head, which sat a dragon, clawing at Gwaine's hair and breathing small puffs of fire.

Percival was holding his stomach from laughing so hard. Merlin was grinning from ear to ear. Arthur's eyes widened in shock, "Where the hell did that come from!" he exclaimed loudly.

Everyone looked at him, and the dragon left Gwaine's head. Arthur watched it soar across the room and land on the top of Merlin's bed. It took a moment for him to collect his senses.

"Is that what I think it is?"

Merlin nodded, looking guilty as sin.

"What is that horrible smell," Gwaine began, sniffing.

"I think he might have singed some of your hair," Merlin told him.

A horrified look crossed Gwaine's face. He ran a hand over his hair and quickly disappeared into the adjoining bathroom to inspect the damage. Percival was laughing again but Arthur was not amused.

He looked back at Merlin to see the smile quickly leave his face.

"Merlin," he began, raising a finger, "Tell me how a dragon has ended up in your room?"

It was obvious though and he was seething. "You used magic didn't you?"

Merlin swallowed and nodded. "Just a little," he murmured, indicating a mere inch with his forefinger and thumb. "I couldn't help it," he quickly continued, "I had this itch. You know the type of itches you can't scratch."

"Yes, Merlin I know all about that!" he roared, "I've been putting up with it from my legs for weeks now!"

Merlin flinched. Arthur continued to wave a finger in his face. "And you ... you just don't ever do as you are told."

The dragon that was sitting on the top of Merlin's bed took flight and promptly landed on his finger, much to his astonishment. It began nuzzling his finger, before moving on to the main part of his hand and looking directly at him. Arthur was expecting it to breathe fire on him like it had done to Gwaine, but the little dragon began chirping in what he could only describe as; happily.

Merlin's eyes widened in disbelief, "He never goes to anyone ... except," his words broke off there as some kind of realization appeared to dawn on his face.

"Except who?" he inquired, suddenly curious.

"Audric," Percival spoke.

"It must think you are him," Merlin added.

A strange sensation he couldn't even begin to describe overcame him.

"Every year, at the anniversary of your death Arthur, we would make the yearly pilgrimage to Lake Avalon," Percival began to explain, "Once there Merlin would bring the little dragon to life."

The words registered in his numb mind. "This was Audric's dragon?" His voice coming out more like a croak, sudden emotions were getting the better of him.

"From a young boy I taught Audric how to become one with the dragon, about kinship," Merlin spoke, his voice sounding almost as choked up as his had done a moment before. "It took a while but eventually the dragon began to trust Audric."

It was like a link to the son he had never seen. Tears burned at the back of his eyes. The little dragon was now curling up in the palm of his hand.

"They became kin Arthur," Merlin continued, his breath catching in his throat.

"D-Did he look like me?" he stammered on the words.

"It's your voice, he sounded just like you."

"And your eyes," Percival added.

Arthur glanced from Percival to Merlin, seeing the understanding and nostalgia in both sets of eyes. For the first time he felt more connected to these men than ever. It was as if a little bit of Camelot itself was there present before all of them, as if Merlin had conjured it out of the air and brought it too life.

"Of course he was better looking than you," Merlin quipped with a crooked smile, "didn't have your fat head."

Arthur let out a brief laugh. His eyes searched Merlin's. He saw the sincerity in there depths. Merlin as always, using humour to diffuse the painful emotions, it's what he always liked about him. His son grew up in a world without prejudice, unlike him.

"He was lucky to have you," he spoke, meaning every word.

Merlin blinked and half nodded, as was his way, his eyes always saying far more than his words.

"That little ..." Gwaine began with a menacing growl.

No one had heard him approach.

"Look what he did to my hair?"

Arthur squinted up at Gwaine, but as far as he could tell his hair didn't look any different.

"Don't be so vain Gwaine," he drawled.

Gwaine glared at him, his eyes resting on the dragon. "How come he's in your hands? I thought he didn't go to anyone other than you Merlin?"

"I guess he knows where his true allegiance lies," Arthur smugly returned.

His hand gently came to rest on the young dragon. He had to wonder if this was how Audric touched him; did the dragon lay so content in the palm of his hands. He could almost picture the sturdy boy, the wonderment in his eyes.

The door opened and a nurse stepped into the room. He quickly covered the dragon with his hand.

"Everyone needs to leave, doctor's rounds," she said.

Merlin's eyes glowed gold and he felt the dragon in his hand harden. He removed his hand and looked down at the wooden carving. A slight frown dented his forehead. It looked familiar and then the memory returned. He had seen Merlin holding this wooden carving in his hands, gazing down at it with fondness and sadness in his eyes.

'_Where did you get that from?' he'd asked._

_Merlin quickly closed his hand over the wooden carving, a mask stealing over his face. _

'_Nowhere.'_

'_C'mon Merlin,' he persisted, poking him with the flat part of his sword. _

'_Alright then, Balinor gave it to me.'_

'_The Dragonlord?'_

_He nodded his expression unreadable. _

'_Why?'_

_He shrugged, 'I don't know.'_

_Arthur looked at him perplexed. There really were times he couldn't figure Merlin out. But he shrugged, brushed it off as just another one of Merlin's quirky eccentricities. _

Now he knew. Merlin had given Audric, his son, the dragon his own father had carved and lovingly given to him. A deep ache took up residence in his chest. That act alone told Arthur that Merlin had loved, and deeply cared for his son, perhaps as if he was his own son.

"I believe," he began, clearing his throat, handing the carving out to Merlin, "This belongs to you."

Merlin took the dragon from him, his thumb brushing over the wooden carving, the same fondness, mixed with sadness in the young man's eyes as he'd seen before, in that other lifetime.

* * *

Merlin was a hard person to get on his own. Morgana had barely any time alone with him. She went to his room, only to find Gwen and Arthur there.

"Merlin's in the recreation room," Arthur told her.

She went in search of him, finding him in the recreation room as Arthur had told her. He was alone. She could barely believe it, finally! She had him to herself. He was sitting on a two seat sofa, reading. The sun was shining through the window, almost giving him a halo. She smiled ironically at the sight.

Saint Merlin, it was fitting somehow. She had spent many hours pondering over the other life, why she became what she did. She recalled many moments they had exchanged this lifetime as well. At the cottage he had told her, '_hate_ _is a powerful emotion Morgana, don't let it in ... please_. _ I want you to remain the same.'_ At the time she couldn't understand why he was saying it but now she did.

He wanted to stop her becoming what she had once been.

He still cared. He didn't make her feel bad for what she had been. Even Arthur and Gwen were good about it as well. The others were wary. Gwaine, less so and she remembered his remark from the other day, '_if you want me to dance for ya you'll have to pay me this time around'_.

"_I can think of better things to do with my money," she returned._

_He grinned. "Admit it Morgana you found me hot then that's why ya kept wanting me to dance."_

_She shook her head but couldn't help the slow smile crossing her face, 'Maybe then, definitely not now.'_

He had appeared to be crushed. '_I knew you were still evil.'_ But he had said it in a joking way and then winked at her. It was going to be okay.

She slowly approached Merlin. He was wearing a navy blue sweater and faded old jeans that had seen better days. There was nothing remarkable about him on first glance, till his eyes met hers. He really did have the most amazing eyes, eyes that expressed everything.

Her feelings towards him confused her. Was or wasn't it love? She had really liked him at first in that other lifetime. He had been so sweet, still was. But then she had hated him, he was always getting in her way, foiling her plans. He had tried to poison her when she trusted him. Though now in hindsight that year spent with her sister had changed her. Morgause had filled her head with words of revenge; _they don't care for you, you don't belong there Morgana, look what that servant did to you, they will pay_. Till she believed it, till it ate away at her very soul. Hate, just like the kind Merlin had warned her about, filled her whole being. She became the epitome of loathing. It blinded her to anything that was once good in her. She had lost herself.

But now ... now it felt like a bad dream. That hadn't happened to her this time, and neither did she want it to. She had her old self back. It would stay that way, wouldn't it? Merlin was her only reassurance. If she could look at him and not feel hate then she would be fine.

And looking at him now, the smile on his lips, the clear honesty in his wide blue eyes she felt warmth spread through her. Merlin was everything that was good and right in the world. She handed him the paper bag that contained food. She always brought him something to eat.

He took it from her.

"It's not MacDonald's," she began, knowing he wasn't keen on it, "It's a ham and cheese croissant."

"Between you and Arthur I'm going to end up fat one of these days."

It sounded right, nice, the way he said _you and Arthur_.

"I really doubt that," she scoffed.

She flopped down on the sofa next to him, "Arthur on the other hand."

Merlin smiled. "You've been teasing him."

"Only every chance I get," she grinned, "Old habits die-hard, besides he's my brother, I've been teasing him since we were kids. He's just so ... tease-able."

He let out a laugh. It sounded good to her ears.

"I found him and Gwen in your room," she continued.

"Arthur has come to the realization that he and Gwen can snog in there without being caught by Uther and as you can see I've been shafted to the recreation room."

Morgana felt the smile leave her face at the mention of her father's name. "I can't believe what he threatened to do to Arthur and Gwen," she paused, "No, actually I can."

How was it that she was stuck with that insufferable man as a father again?

"Something needs to be done about him."

She saw the sudden worried look on Merlin's face.

"Don't worry I'm not going to kill him, I'm just going to find some way to bring him down."

"I'll help you," he offered, surprising her. "You don't know what I can do with magic these days, hack into computers, disabled security cameras; unlock any and every sort of door."

Magic, she inwardly sighed, in some ways she was glad she didn't have it now. It had brought her so much grief. Yet, Merlin had had it all his life and was unaffected by it.

"Do you think I'll have magic again?" she tentatively asked him.

His eyes met hers. "I don't know, do you feel like you might?"

She slowly shook her head, "I don't know, but I do have dreams and sometimes they do still happen."

He was watching her with a thoughtful expression. "I guess time will only tell."

After a few minutes of lapsed silence, Merlin spoke. "Are you afraid of it?"

"Yes," she whispered, honestly.

He slipped his hand into hers and gave it a squeeze. "You don't have to be," he replied, softly. "If it does happen you won't be alone this time."

Seeing the sincerity in his eyes she believed him. It wasn't like before. They were not in Camelot. Those days, those fears ... they didn't matter anymore.

* * *

Gwaine came bursting into his room. Merlin looked up startled from the book he was reading. A grin crossed Gwaine's face, the sort of grin Merlin knew that meant Gwaine was up to no good.

His suspicions were confirmed when Gwaine went rummaging through the wardrobe, pulling clothes off the hangers and throwing them at him.

"You need to get dressed Merlin."

"What are you doing?"

He glanced over his shoulder, "kidnapping you."

"What?!"

"It's our last day. They said you are not allowed out so we're breaking you out."

He hadn't expected that but he couldn't help the grin crossing his face. At last some freedom from the confines of the hospital.

"Where are you taking me?" he asked, unbuttoning his pyjama shirt.

"There is this quaint, quiet tavern in Sutton Coldfield, we're going there."

* * *

Gwen and Arthur were waiting in the car when he climbed into the back seat. Gwen smiled warmly at him before biting down on her lip.

"We are going to get into so much trouble for this."

"Just hurry up and drive Gwen before they realize Merlin's gone," Gwaine insisted.

Gwen started the engine.

Arthur began giving him a list of instructions on what he could and couldn't do, and what he was allowed and not allowed to do.

"Jeez princess you should listen to yourself, you sound like a nagging old fish wife," Gwaine remarked.

Arthur glared at him. Gwen suppressed a giggle.

"It's true Arthur," she said.

"And you don't fuss over him," Arthur retorted.

"Someone has to," she said in her defense, "He needs looking after and besides I'm a girl, it's my prerogative."

Merlin felt ridiculously happy. He'd only managed to take perfect care of himself for 1,400 years and here they were squabbling about him as if he were not more than a kid, being overly protective.

"Let's hope they have half a dozen kids to pre-occupy them in the future," Gwaine whispered in his ear. "Arthur will be in his element then, ordering them around and Gwen can fuss to her heart's content."

"I heard that," Arthur commented from the front seat.

He glanced over his shoulder at them. "And you can be the babysitter Merlin," he grinned.

"Not if they are turn out like you," he returned.

"I'm not having six kids," Gwen piped up from the driver's seat. "Just because I'm a woman you men think that's all we want in life? Marry, have children, be some stay at home mum. Dote on husbands and wear pretty ribbons in our hair, and spend our days trying to look hot for you," she snorted.

"I'm telling you Arthur," she continued, "You will be changing nappies, doing housework, this is the 21st century and women have rights now. It's all about equality."

Merlin hid a smile at the disgruntled look on Arthur's face, picturing him trying to change a nappy.

"We'll hire a nanny and a housemaid," he glibly replied at length.

Gwen shot him a look that said they would be doing anything but.

"Gwen's a feminist now," Merlin happily stated. "It's all about women's rights, you need to get with the times Arthur."

"Merlin," Arthur began.

"Yeah I know, shut up."

* * *

Everyone was there waiting for them at the tavern, Percival, Lancelot, and even Morgana. They found a table, ordered food, drank beer, except him. He drank his usual lemonade. Gwaine was taking the piss out of Arthur, as usual. Morgana seemed to be enjoying that, joining in on the teasing till Arthur declared he'd had enough of this and left the table.

But Merlin had noticed the look he exchanged with Gwen before leaving; Gwen discreetly leaving the table not soon after him.

"There they go," Gwaine remarked with a grin, "The two lovebirds."

"I guess they have to make the most of it," Morgana interjected, "It'll be a while before they see each other again and all because of my father."

"Uther's a tyrant," Gwaine growled. "I hate that man, in both lifetimes."

Morgana smiled at him. Interesting, Merlin mused. His eyes then fell on Lancelot. It must be hard for him. Morgana and Gwaine engaged in a conversation about the evils of Uther and Merlin scooted across the seat to Lancelot.

"It's alright Merlin," he began, holding up a hand, "I'm over it."

He didn't believe him.

"It's not as if Gwen and I have ever really had a relationship of any kind."

"You might find someone else?"

A slow, pained smile crossed Lancelot's face. "Maybe," he sighed. "One day or maybe I'm also fated to be alone."

Yeah, that seemed his allotment in life too, Merlin dryly mused.

"I know what you mean," he muttered.

Lancelot shot him a quizzical look. "You never found love?"

He wasn't sure on how to answer that? Yes, he had but it was never meant to be.

"It was kind of hard when you're fated to an immortal life," he eventually replied.

His eyes met with Percival's from across the table. Percival understood. He'd been there after all when he'd first discovered his immortality. One of the few times he'd allowed himself to get stinking drunk. He hadn't known what he hoped to accomplish out of it, only to drown his sorrows and forget about life all together.

Percival had found him in his pathetic inebriated state, took him back to his chambers. He had sat with him, consoled him as he threw up in a bucket, stuttering about how much he hated life. Merlin had found Percival's strong presence soothing, as he always had.

They exchanged a knowing shared smile. And Merlin felt incredibly privileged to have these people in his life again; how much he had missed them.

* * *

Arthur waited in the area beneath the staircase. He spied Gwen walking by and pulled her into the same space. She appeared startled before recognising him. She smiled so sweetly, her arms sliding around his waist, holding him tightly. He drew in a deep rapid breath, his hands entangling in her hair. "No prying eyes here," he murmured.

His lips found hers with haste and sudden need. This is pretty much all he had ever wanted to do, along with other things which he wasn't able to do yet. Knowing that their time together was limited he had to make up for these short few hours they had left together. The thought of what his father had done, extending her time at Camp Bastion, still riled him. He tried hard not to grow bitter, but was finding it increasingly difficult to do.

"I'm not going to see you for months," he muttered, his hands cupping her face as he drank in the sight of her, imprinting her face to memory.

"I hate my father," he continued.

She pressed a finger to his lips. "Let's not spend out last moment talking about him."

He felt Gwen draw in a deep breath and then overwhelmed by a sudden impulse, knowing this would be there last moment together, he gripped her tightly and pressed his lips to the side of her head, almost fiercely. She closed her eyes and leaned into him, like she was drawing strength.

"I'm sorry this has happened to you Gwen."

"It's not your fault Arthur."

Her fingers were lightly, lovingly caressing his face, his hair, the need and longing in her eyes reflecting his own. He breathed in the scent of her perfume, tried to rein in the unsteady beating of his heart.

It wasn't fair.

"I'll wait as long as it takes," he murmured, before claiming her lips again.

He heard the low moan in her throat as he deepened the kiss. Tipping her chin back, he kissed the hollow of her throat, lingering on the throbbing of her pulse.

"This is killing me Arthur," she breathed, voice husky.

"Tell me about it. If I could I would be booking a room upstairs right now and making love to you like we used to."

She managed a smile. "It's been a long time."

"I haven't forgotten."

"Neither have I."

He wrapped his arms around her, feeling the beat of her heart against his chest. He buried his face in her hair. Time was slipping by and he didn't want to let her go.

"Arthur," she murmured.

He pulled back to gaze down at her, seeing the sadness her eyes nearly his undoing. He lightly caressed her cheek, brushed a thumb over her lips.

"We have to say goodbye." Her voice shook.

He swallowed the lump in his throat. "I know."

His voice sounded hoarse in his own ears.

"Let's not drag this out and make it any more difficult," she continued with a hint of tears in her eyes.

"Gwen ..." but the words failed him, what was left to be said?

She stared at him for a long, tortuous moment. "I think I better go."

Before he had a chance to respond she hastily turned and walked away. He stood there for a moment, trying to get his emotions in check. He felt suddenly bereft, cursing fate and his father for the hundredth time.

* * *

Merlin's eyes scanned the room when he returned from the bathroom. Gwaine was still chatting with Morgana, they appeared to be plotting Uther's downfall. Lancelot and Percival were engaged in conversation. Arthur and Gwen hadn't returned, and Merlin didn't expect them too for some time.

He felt a slow smile cross his face at the sight of everyone, relaxed and happy. There had been a lot of pain initially, but it was all good now. It was going to be okay. There were still problems to be dealt with; Arthur's father the main one, as in the other lifetime, some things just didn't change.

Feeling the need for fresh air and a moment alone, Merlin made his way outside. He sat on the ancient looking brick wall, watching the sun sink lower into the sky. Enjoying the feel of the suns ray's on his pale skin. A faint breeze teased the hair at his temples. It felt good to be alive. He always had had a way of connecting with the earth. He could feel it hum and vibrate beneath him, sensed that it was waiting, a question in its depths. He closed his eyes. Something was stirring, something he hadn't felt in a long time. Magic was forgotten, no one even believed in its existence anymore. Past folk lore was just that, lost in the past. But this place ... something significant had happened here. Something also that was still waiting to happen, Merlin couldn't put his finger on it. Beneath the now mostly modern buildings that made up the town there was an old history, ancient as time itself. He felt it whispering on the soft cool breeze in the air.

* * *

When Arthur managed to get his emotions in control he returned to the table. Gwen was chatting with Morgana, and despite trying to be strong, he could tell she was struggling as much as he was. He scanned the room for Merlin, needing the young man's reassurances. He berated himself often for worrying incessantly about Merlin. It's just that Merlin was unique, a precious gem, something that shouldn't exist but did. Once it was discovered, it was something that should never be forgotten or lost again.

"Where's Merlin?" he asked.

He felt a bit miffed that no one had been watching him. Why we're they not worried?

"I think he went outside Arthur," Percival spoke up.

Of course, Percival probably worried about Merlin as much as he did. He wouldn't let anything happen to him.

Arthur made his way outside attracting the curious passer by's stares. His leg and that damn contraption thing on it stuck out like a sore thumb.

"What are you all gawking at?" he sometimes felt like yelling.

And this was to be his reality for the next several months - shit. He didn't have the patience for it, wishing he was the one returning to Camp Bastion tomorrow morning; with Merlin as his medic of course.

He found Merlin outside just like Percival said. He was sitting on a stone wall, eyes closed. Arthur took a moment to study him. Why was he out here and not socialising with everyone else?

"There you are Merlin," he called out, "I've been looking for you."

Merlin turned his head in his direction and smiled, giving him a wave, "Hi, Arthur."

He went and sat down next to him, glad to be able to final rest his leg. "What are you doing out here?"

"Getting some fresh air," he replied, "And thinking."

"What about?"

"This place."

"What about this place?"

"It's old," he murmured, running a hand over the wall, a dreamy look on his face, "really old."

Arthur snorted. "Yeah, it's Sutton Coldfield. It has a lot of history."

"There was magic here, long ago."

"How do you know?"

"I can feel it."

Arthur scrutinized him carefully. Merlin was still, in many ways, a bit of an enigma to him. He couldn't even begin to comprehend how magic felt, but he found his curiosity aroused.

"How does it feel?" he asked.

"Close your eyes Arthur," he instructed, "Don't think, that shouldn't be hard for you."

Arthur snorted but did as Merlin said. Several minutes passed by but he couldn't feel anything.

"It hum's," Merlin continued.

"Yeah I think that's the traffic Merlin," he quipped, lightly nudging him.

Merlin shook his head, a slow smile crossing his face. But despite his smile Arthur noticed how tired he was beginning to look. Should they have taken him out of the hospital? Would he ever stop worrying about him? And what was going to happen now. Everything was about to change.

"I'm being discharged from hospital tomorrow," he began, slowly, "Guess I have to stay at home with just my father for company," he continued bitterly.

Hating the thought, he was already far too bitter towards his father.

"I'm going to go insane Merlin."

Merlin gave him a sympathetic look. "You'll be fine."

"If it gets real bad I'm going to come and stay with you."

Merlin cocked his head to the side amused. "Two invalids trying to get by; should be interesting."

He grinned and put an arm across his thin shoulders.

"Just as long as you don't burn the house down Arthur," he quipped.

"I doubt it because you'll be doing the cooking."

"Didn't you hear Gwen in the car, it's the age of equality now I'm not your manservant anymore."

"Yeah but I can't cook."

"You can learn."

He shook his head. "I could learn to cook rat stew I guess," he lightly said.

Merlin smiled at the memory. "You really were a prat you know."

Arthur smiled in return. "That rat stew was horrible by the way Merlin."

"Hmm well I guess we're not living in desperate times currently."

No they were not, but for how long? But he buried the questions and doubts, now wasn't the time for them. He suddenly shivered in the cool breeze, wanting the warmth of the tavern.

"Let's go inside, it's getting cold out here," he suggested.

"Just give me a couple more minutes alone."

Arthur nodded, knowing Merlin was self conscious about how slowly he moved.

"Don't be long, it's going to rain soon and we probably should get you back to the hospital before they send out a search party."

* * *

Merlin watched the clouds pass by in the sky. A chill began. He waited for Arthur to enter the tavern before grabbing his walking stick. He slowly made his way to the tavern door. It was tough going and he was beginning to feel weary.

Just as he was about to walk through the door, a young woman came barreling out. Her foot caught on his walking stick. She tripped and the armload of books she carried fell to the ground. He watched on, mortified.

"Oh damn!" she exclaimed.

"I'm sorry," he began quickly, bending down awkwardly to pick up the books.

"It's okay, I should look where I'm going," she hurriedly spoke as she also bent down to help.

There was something strangely familiar about her voice. It tugged away at a half forgotten memory.

He slowly raised his face to hers, and his hands froze. That face, the way her hair curled ... the freckles splattered across her nose and cheeks. His heart almost stopped ... Emelyn?

His eyes met hers. He suddenly found it hard to breath. It had been well over a thousand years but he would never forget those eyes.

Slowly standing up, trance-like almost, clutching her books tightly to his chest, lost in another time and place.

A slight amused smile crossed her face. "I believe those are my books."

He quickly came to his senses. "Oh right, of course, sorry," he hastily said, face reddening slightly.

He tried handing the books to her, but as usual his left arm and hand were not functioning as they should. She tried taking then from him, her hands entangling with his. Could this be any more awkward?

He glanced at the girl, so much like his Emelyn. Was she? Could she be? He didn't dare to hope.

"Merlin!" he heard Arthur yell, "Merlin!"

"That's me," he grimaced, "I'm Merlin."

Did she remember him?

An amused smiled crossed her face. "Someone demands your attention."

Dollop head, Merlin silently muted. She didn't remember. His heart sank.

"I'm Emma."

Of course she was. "Emma short for Emelyn."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "How did you know?"

He couldn't answer, didn't know how to. He stuttered out some reason. "I guess you ... just look like an Emelyn."

It was lame, he knew. A thoughtful gaze stole over her face, her hazel eyes met with his, filled with confusion and curiosity.

"Merlin," she murmured, as if the name held some long forgotten meaning.

It's me ... remember me ... I'm Merlin. You have to remember me.

Instead her eyes fell on his walking stick before returning to his face. "What happened to you?"

There was an odd wistful note to her voice. It made his stomach twist into knots.

"I'm in the Army, got injured over in Afghanistan." He gestured to his head, "Head injury."

Her face softened with compassion. It was so achingly familiar.

"I-I'm sorry," she stammered, appearing suddenly embarrassed. "I shouldn't have asked."

"No," he blurted out, "It's alright. I don't mind, used to it now."

She smiled that sweet familiar smile of hers. Was it really her? Could she be Emelyn?

"Do you come here often?" he asked, cringing at what so obviously sounded like a pick up line. He really sucked at trying to pick up girls. He shook his head. "That sounded ..."

But she merely appeared amused, "Every Monday and Wednesday between one and four pm."

Did that mean what he thought it did? She wanted to see him?

"I have to get home," she quickly spoke. "Younger brother's to entertain."

"It's nice to meet you." _Again, _he silently added.

She gave a hesitant smile, "You too."

He watched her walk away, resisted the urge and longing to call her back then he suddenly realized something. "I'm still in hospital," he called out.

She stopped, turned around and walked back towards him, sending his heart sky rocketing.

She rummaged through her bag. "I don't even know why I'm doing this," she murmured, shaking her head, a hint of colour in her cheeks. "I never do this."

He watched as she scribbled her number on a piece of paper. "I'm mean - you could be an ax murderer for all I know."

She glanced at him, a soft smile tilting the corners of her mouth. "You don't look like one though."

"I'm a medic," he returned with a grin.

Her smile widened, as her gaze searched his face, a question in the depths of her beautiful eyes, "Just that there's something about you."

She shook her head confused. "This is going to sound crazy, but you look a lot like the boy in my dreams."

He raised a quizzical eyebrow. He was in her dreams? Hope flared in his heart.

"You run with dragons," she slowly continued, making the hairs stand up on the back of his neck, "Crazy ... huh?"

"It's not." He cleared his throat. "As crazy as you think."

"You're sweet ..." she began, "Different."

His voice seemed to get stuck in his throat. He felt every bit a nervous young man in that moment.

"I'll see you around," she continued, giving him a long last look, "Merlin." Her voice was like a whisper that echoed through his head and heart, with old longings of a bygone time.

"Emma," he murmured.

She began to walk away. He turned towards the door just as Arthur popped his head out, frowning and looking disgruntled, as only Arthur could.

"I've been calling you."

But Merlin barely heard him, his thoughts taken up with Emma. He glanced over his shoulder in her direction at the same time she had stopped to look at him. Raising a hand she gave him a small wave. He did the same. The glimmer of a smile curved her lips before she turned away.

"Who is she?" Arthur asked.

Merlin tilted his head to the side, bemused. You're once grand-daughter and you have no idea. He glanced at him, a wry smile crossing his face, "Just somebody that I used to know."

He clutched the piece of paper with her number written on it in his hand, still in a state of disbelief. She existed. She was real.

Arthur put an arm across his shoulders and tugged him towards the door. "C'mon, everyone wants to be with you."

He hobbled inside, Arthur shutting the door behind them. He turned his head to look at him, a silent message sent between the two of them, just like old times.

"It's going to be just you and me now Merlin," he sighed.

"Yeah," he said, "So I guess you're stuck with me, again."

Arthur grinned. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

Neither would Merlin. He had only waited 1,400 years for Arthur's return. The waiting was finally over. His life beginning and new adventures awaited them.

The future may be uncertain, but he now had one.

He was living.

They were all living and Merlin smiled at the long ago distant memory; Arthur about to face the undead knights of Medhir, him slapping his face to keep him awake.

'_Merlin!'_

'_That's better.'_

'_If you ever do that again ...'_

'_Well, don't fall asleep, then.'_

'_If I need a servant in the next life ...'_

'_Don't ask me.'_

_Arthur laughed._

_._

_._

_._

_FIN **_

* * *

_._

_._

**A/N: I find it incredibly hard to finish a story. It always seems to take me twice as long and I often get stuck with the cursed 'writer's block'. I'm highly critical of my own work. I still don't think this chapter could have been as good as I would have liked! Some scenes work better than others. But there comes a point where I just have to stop torturing myself and put it out there. That being said I have loved writing this story and bringing these characters to life. I absolutely adore the TV show Merlin. It was a TV series that was an unexpected surprise to me in as much as that I never thought I would become so obsessive with it. I think it has to do with the friendship between characters, so enduring. It just really struck a cord with me, especially that of Arthur and Merlin. It kind of reminds me of the friendship between Jim and Spock from the old Star Trek series and two latest films. **

**As for the sequel, you will have to wait a little while. My life is pretty hectic. Not only am I a high school teacher but I also have three kids! I juggle a lot on a day to day basis. Over here in Australia I'm in the busiest school term of the academic year. As you probably don't know, everything is back to front here :) What is your summer holidays is our winter. Our school structure is a little different too. We have four terms over the year. School begins at the very start of February and finishes a week before Christmas. We don't have one long really break over summer, only about six weeks. Rather we have a two week break between each term. Much kinder for teachers. That being said, current Term 3 is insanely full on! I teach media studies by the way and I love it.**

**Please feel free to give me feedback and advice on what you would like to happen in the sequel. I have some things figured out and I've set up the chapter in a way that alludes to what could happen, but I would love to hear what people think. I always love reading people's reviews! ****They really are like payment in gold. Once again, thank you, thank you for the wonderful support and following of this story!**

**Cheers**

**Carolynne xx**

**P.S. I'm really bad with titles as well, so if you have a good title name for the sequel send it my way.**


	28. Chapter 28

A/N: This is to let you all know that the sequel for this story is now up and running! As promised.

It's called 'The Uncertain Future' by Carolynneruth and I can't wait till you've read the first chapter. I am excited about where the story will go and hopefully it will be as satisfying as Forgotten Lives has been so please leave a review in the way of encouragement if you think it's any good and put this poor writer's mind at ease :)

Thank you so much for following me on this journey. Hopefully the next leg of the journey will be as equally satisfying.

I will upload the new chapter for 'The Uncertain Future' directly after I've uploaded this author's note to 'Forgotten Lives'.


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